Dungeon
by DreadingNought
Summary: Harry returns for Year Six and begins Occlumency and Legilimency lessons. Harry gets entangled in a complicated ruse to fool Voldemort into believing Snape is still an loyal Death Eater. HPSS HPGW --COMPLETE
1. Default Chapter

Title: Dungeon  
Author: Dreadnought  
Rating: R (Slashy situations)  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, I'm just having a little fun with them.

* * *

Chapter 1 - All in the mind's eye  
  
"How was your summer?" Dumbledore asked as he considered Harry over his spectacles.  
  
Responses such as _could have been worse_ and _ better than expected although that isn't saying much_ came to mind. "Okay," was Harry's quiet response. Harry as usual had thought he wanted nothing more than to return to Hogwarts, but the day after the Sorting Feast was proving to be a letdown. He felt even more isolated now than he did at the end of last year.  
  
"I want you to continue to learn Occlumency, but I am going to teach you myself this term if you are willing," Dumbledore said kindly.  
  
Harry's head came up at that. He nodded that he agreed. Dumbledore's gaze grew more watchful as Harry continued to sit silently. "When your schedule is set, we can pick an evening, then. Why don't you rejoin your friends, with whom I am sure you have some catching up."  
  
It required a moment for Harry to realize he had been dismissed. He stood up with a quiet good evening and departed.  
  
In the Gryffindor common room Ron and Hermione were arguing. Harry frowned slightly and went over to them. "But Ron, I don't want to take Potions alone! But I really want to take Potions. This year is the first year we'll get to do really interesting things."  
  
Harry dropped into an open seat beside them. The armrests of this chair were worn almost through. He picked at the threads of stuffing that stuck out. "Yeah, Ron, now that all of the dummies are out of the classroom, it will get fun and interesting, and Snape won't be a total git anymore," he said in an oddly neutral voice.  
  
Hermione frowned as she watched him damage the couch further. "Harry, what is up with you?"  
  
"Yeah," Ron chimed in. "It's like you would have preferred staying at the Dursleys the way you were acting on the train."  
  
Harry kept the same even tone, refusing to be baited. "You've met my aunt and uncle; you really think that?"  
  
Hermione gave Harry a worried look, then returned to her argument with Ron. "If you were really my friend, you would take Potions with me," she said moodily.  
  
"If you were really mine, you wouldn't even suggest it!" Ron retorted. "Have you asked Harry?"  
  
"Come on, Ron. Professor Snape hates Harry. I wouldn't put Harry up to that."  
  
"I'll do it," Harry said factually.  
  
"You will?" Hermione asked, surprised.  
  
Harry looked at his fingernails. He felt detached, as though nothing mattered, including Potions. "Why not," he said.  
  
"Well, thanks, Harry. I really appreciate it."  
  
Ron frowned at him as though trying to read between the lines of his magnanimous attitude. Harry ignored him.  
  


--888888--

  
  
"Parkinson comma Pansy," Snape said as he read the roll on the first day of class. After a glance at the beaming Slytherin, he made a check mark in the book. "And, rather shockingly, Potter, Harry," Snape said and gave Harry a long look. Harry ignored him and stared at the blackboard and the rather stylishly written words, "Advanced Sixth Year Potions." Snape moved on to the rest of the class list. When the roll was finished, he paced along the wall as he explained of the goals of the class. Hermione had to nudge Harry to get him to realize he had to write down the syllabus on his parchment.  
  


--888888--

  
  
Harry's first Occlumency lesson with Dumbledore was that evening. Over the summer he had been practicing his mind-clearing exercise. He found it came in very handy for dealing with the Dursleys. His uncle Vernon seemed to find his new found stoicism a kind of unexpected virtue when Harry really managed to get on form. Harry didn't think he was going to continue to find it useful at Hogwarts, but he kept falling into that state of mind out of habit.   
  
At the top of the escalator, Harry cleared his thoughts as thoroughly as he ever had and swung the brass door knocker. "Come in, Harry," Dumbledore said in a welcoming voice. When the young man had taken a seat, Dumbledore asked, "Happy to be back?"  
  
Harry nodded.   
  
"Well, why don't we just get started then," Dumbledore said, watching Harry closely. "You understand how Occlumency works, correct?"  
  
"If I clear my mind, there is nothing for someone else to grab hold of," Harry replied flatly.  
  
"Correct. That is the basic method, but it doesn't leave you much room to think for yourself. There are ways to distract the Legilimens attacker or even to outrightly show them false memories and thoughts."  
  
Harry's eyes lit up a bit at that, but they still seemed much duller than Dumbledore expected. He supposed that he couldn't have expected Harry to have recovered this soon from the events at the Ministry.  
  
"Let's test your basic abilities then. Are you ready?" Dumbledore picked up his wand and said _Legilimens_, in a factual rather than shouting voice the way Snape had. Harry didn't really need to prepare but he did anyway. Dumbledore's mind slipped past Harry's as if he weren't there. "Very good, Harry. You have been practicing. Did you have any visions or dreams over the summer?"  
  
"A few," Harry said in a flat voice. "I blocked them out."  
  
Dumbledore linked his hands together and considered Harry. The boy's attitude was beginning to make more sense. "Well, I am glad you find that possible now. It certainly must make for a better night's sleep."  
  
Harry shrugged.   
  
Dumbledore plowed on. He was growing worried, but believed that a few days or weeks around his friends would return Harry to his old self or something more closely resembling his old self. "Since you have mastered the basic mode, let's move on to creating a deception for a Legilimency attack. To do this, you must partition your mind into two distinct parts. The cleared one that repels attack and another where you can hold your own thoughts to yourself. Once you have mastered this partition, you can then inject false notions into the cleared part of your mind. Do you understand?"  
  
Harry nodded. He was listening intently.  
  
"Clear your mind and push the cleared part forward towards me. Then in the back of your mind think of something, anything really, that I can try to get from you." He paused for a long minute, while Harry worked that out. "Ready? _Legilimens_."  
  
Harry had thought about his broom in the back of his mind. It had been pulling a little down and to the left as though it needed a charm reworking. As Dumbledore said the spell, Harry's thoughts about his broom leapt to the front of his mind without effort. He shook his head. "That didn't work," Harry commented.  
  
"It rarely does on the first try or even the hundredth. Have some patience with yourself. Push the blank part of your mind forward harder as you are considering the other topic and think about walling off the other part. It is hard to do simultaneously, but not impossible and it requires a great deal of practice."  
  
"You are much more patient than Professor Snape," Harry commented evenly.  
  
"It is true that Professor Snape is not known for his patience. But his skill at Occlumency is unmatched. Let's try it again."  
  
Harry was tired by the time he left the Headmaster's office. In the common room the students were winding down for the night, having spent much of the night before catching up with their mates.   
  
"Where have you been?" Hermione asked Harry when he came in.  
  
Harry sat down close beside his friends and whispered. "I have Occlumency now with the headmaster."  
  
"Oh, that must be better than Professor Snape," she commented.  
  
Harry nodded emphatically then cleared his mind and stared into the waning fire in the hearth.  
  
Even Dumbledore's much more gentle lessons left Harry vulnerable, he discovered that night. Harry awoke with a jerk and realized he was not only laying in his bed but also standing in the dim, fire-lit room from previous visions. He was looking down at someone kneeling before him and heard Voldemort's voice, "Everything is going as planned. Excellent." Harry could feel a warm pleasure at being in control. "I have something else for you to do. Rudolph gave me an idea. . ." The kneeling figure looked up in question and Harry found himself looking down at his Potions professor. He blanked his mind and shut down the vision. He didn't fall back to sleep again that night.  
  
Harry trudged through Astronomy, Transfiguration, and Herbology the next day as though in a daze. At dinner he was dimly aware that Hermione's and Ron's expressions had grown more concerned as the day progressed.   
  
They began what could only be described as a campaign to cheer him up. There were chocolates around at all times and more games between homework assignments. Hermione talked repeatedly of all of the charms and hexes she had looked up over the summer that they could do in the DA. After three days all of this was starting to piss Harry off royally.  
  
Harry shrugged Hermione off in the hallway when she came up to him to ask what date she could charm her galleon to for the first meeting.   
  
"Whenever you want," Harry replied. "Just take it over. That would be fine with me."  
  
"I'm not trying to take it over, Harry," she said, a little offended.  
  
"I'm trying to give it to you," Harry came back with a sharp tone.  
  
Hermione looked at him, her frown deepening. "It is your group, Harry. You are the one everyone wants to learn from."  
  
_Great, so they can follow me to their doom_, Harry thought to himself. "I'll think about it," he said in a tone that indicated his mind wasn't going to change.  
  
"Harry," she whispered, "it is only going to get more dangerous, and everyone has a lot more to learn."  
  
Harry pushed his hair down. "Yeah," he breathed and walked away.  
  
Hermione turned around to find Ron just behind her. "I liked him better when he was yelling at us all of the time," he commented.  
  
"I guess we just have to give him some time," Hermione said.  
  
"He had all summer."  
  
"That might be the problem."  


--888888--

  
  
The next morning was Double Potions. Since the class was optional, and much smaller, all of the houses were together. Harry kept his head down as the instructions were given out. He was angry with himself for some reason he realized as he neared the head of the pack of students picking up ingredients from the side table. He carried them back over to his table and set his cauldron on the burner. He stared at its burnished finish, black on the bottom to a dusty pewter at the top. He really couldn't care less about this stupid elixir he was supposed to brew.  
  
Hermione hissed at him to get him started. Moving on automatic, Harry started putting ingredients in. As his beetle leaves steeped in vinegar and bat blood, Snape approached their table on his rounds.  
  
"So, Mr. Potter, what would happen if the vinegar in this potion were too acidic?"  
  
Harry didn't have the slightest idea. "I don't know, sir," Harry said evenly. Hermione shifted her feet beside him.  
  
"What if I added musk oil to it and heated it longer?"  
  
Again Harry replied in his flat, unaffected voice that he didn't know.  
  
"Look at me when I am talking to you, Potter," Snape said in a low tone.  
  
Harry looked up, and the instant their eyes met, Snape's mind slid into his and then harmlessly aside. Harry just blinked at him in very mild curiosity wondering what that might have been for. Snape's eyes narrowed at him.  
  
_Yes, Dumbledore is much better at teaching this than you_, Harry pushed to the front of his thoughts, but Snape didn't try again. Instead, he tore his eyes away and walked to the next table.  
  
Classes plowed on. Snape grew nastier during the next session of Potions. "Potter, I fail to understand why you are in this class if you have no interest in understanding the topic," their teacher said after Harry shrugged off a question regarding the lecture. "I am beginning to wonder how it is that you manage at all to produce a potion that even vaguely resembles the intended one."  
  
Harry shrugged again. Snape's jibes rolled off him the same way the assault on his mind had last class.  
  
"Move to another table where you do not get so much assistance," Snape ordered.  
  
Harry calmly collected up his cauldron and supplies. "Which table, sir?" Harry asked in an even, tired voice.  
  
"That one." Snape ordered, pointing at three Hufflepuffs Harry didn't know very well. Harry moved his things, and they made room for him as he arrived. They looked a little unhappy with this. Harry figured they assumed Snape would spend more time at their table with him there.  
  
Harry walked through the brewing like a robot. His potion didn't look like it was turning out and he had no idea why. He thought he had followed the directions; he looked them over and couldn't see what he had missed. Fredrica, one of the girls at the table, gave him a sympathetic look and winced at his cauldron.  
  
Snape came over just after that and with a shake of his head, waved the contents of Harry's cauldron away. "You are, predictably I might add, starting out very much the way you averaged last year, Potter."  
  
Snape stood there beside him and Harry realized he was waiting for him to meet his gaze. Harry looked up at his Professor with empty eyes. Snape spun away. "Stay after, Potter," he said brusquely.  
  
At the end of class as everyone else bottled their potions, Hermione stepped over to Harry with a sad face. "I'm sorry I made you do this." Harry shrugged that it didn't matter. Hermione stuck beside him as the room emptied out.  
  
"I truly don't remember telling you to stay, Ms. Granger," Snape said in a nasty voice when she and Harry were the last two remaining. Hermione picked up her bag and left with a worried frown.  
  
"My office, Potter," Snape commanded. They walked out into the corridor and to the next doorway. Snape removed the charm on the door with a quick wave and lead the way inside. "Sit down," he said sharply to Harry and took the seat opposite.  
  
"I am going to presume that, since even the headmaster cannot teach the basic mode of Occlumency in one session, you mastered it on your own over the summer."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Mr. Potter?" Snape hissed at him.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Snape considered him a long moment. "The cost is too high, Potter."  
  
Harry's brow furrowed at that and he finally looked up.  
  
"You are throwing away the one weapon you have that the Dark Lord does not possess, and that is a fatal mistake."  
  
Harry's stared at him, then looked down again. "I make fatal mistakes either way," Harry said quietly, returning to his flat voice. "I was told to close my mind and that is what I am doing. I am not going to be a pawn anymore."  
  
"We are all pawns," Snape snapped at him, bringing Harry's concerned gaze back again. Snape stood and came around the desk and bent over Harry to talk directly in his face. "You cannot simply wish yourself off of this board. You were born on it. Some might even argue that it is _your_ chess board we are all playing on.  
  
"As well, you have done more than closed your mind. You have thrown yourself away." Snape went on, relentless.  
  
Getting this from Snape was confusing the hell out of Harry. He had half-expected this from Dumbledore, who had just let Harry go with a worried look.  
  
"Sir, did you talk to the headmaster about me?"  
  
"No. Should I have?" Snape said, standing straight and considering for a moment before answering, as though there may be a trap in the question.  
  
"I just would have expected this from him."  
  
"Hmmmm. He is far too easy on you. That is why you 'did not get this from him.'" Snape breathed out loudly and said in a low, angry voice, "We are all putting ourselves on the line, Potter, and you too must do your part. That includes not losing yourself over one mistake. Your father would not approve."  
  
"What did you say?" Harry asked, suddenly focused and burning with something like fury.  
  
Snape crossed his arms and looked down his nose at Harry. "Having known your father, unlike yourself, I can assure you that he would not approve of this state you are putting yourself in."  
  
Harry wanted to find an angry retort but couldn't locate one in his now swirling mind. It had all seemed so clear before. Harry tried to clear his mind again and didn't quite make it now. "I don't want hurt anyone else," Harry tried to say in his flat voice but it instead came out sullen and injured. He winced at himself and tried to find that certainty he'd had before walking in here.  
  
"Potter," Snape said, as though believe he spoke to an idiot. "If Ms. Granger's expression today is any indication, you are hurting others right now."  
  
Harry flinched and squeezed his eyes shut. Snape stepped back around his desk and continued to watch Harry from there. Something inside the boy had clearly given way and his distress was a definite improvement over the cold emptiness when he first arrived.   
  
"What am I supposed to do?" he asked sullenly.  
  
"Keep going. Just like the rest of us." Snape's voice softened slightly as he said this.  
  
Harry stared at him.  
  
"The path you are trying to set yourself on leads only to darkness and misery . . . and eventually to self-destruction.  
  
Harry swallowed hard. It was really hard to avoid considering this from when it came from Snape. The same words from Dumbledore would have rolled off of him. _Having known your father, unlike yourself. . . _Harry sighed. He wanted dearly to ask for something, wanted to ask Snape to tell him about his father. But he didn't want to owe Snape for anything. He gave up trying to find words and stared at the far rack of potions and waited for something to happen._  
_  
"Come here, Potter," Snape said in a strange tone.  
  
Harry blinked at him and stood slowly. Without his armor of indifference, he was realizing that he was completely vulnerable, and terrified that Snape would take advantage of it. He stood beside the desk with trepidation. Snape looked him over and then turned to the cabinet behind him and took out a pensieve. Harry stared at him, eyes wide.  
  
"Just this once, Potter," Snape said and stirred the pensieve with his wand thoughtfully. "Ah, yes. I think you will like this one." Snape stepped back slightly and gestured for Harry to look into the liquid.   
  
Harry hesitated, not used to the onslaught of fear he had been isolated from for the last few months. Swallowing hard, he leaned in mostly because curiosity got the better of him. He was suddenly in the bleachers of the Quidditch stadium seated next to a young Snape. The Slytherins were booing and jeering loudly as two players were carried from the field. It looked like a Beater for Slytherin and the Seeker for Gryffindor. More jeers and a rude chant followed, then broke up and faded.   
  
The teams were regrouping on the pitch, shooting looks of hatred at each other. Eventually with some consultation from their Heads of House, they took to the air again. Harry watched as his father rose to the top of the stands and began circling, looking everywhere around him.  
  
"Coming in as Beater for Slytherin is Wrenny Magree and coming in as Chaser for Gryffindor is Tayla Mubabe and taking over as seeker is James Potter."  
  
Harry held his breath. This was the game where his father had changed positions.   
  
The Slytherins went on the offensive immediately, their chasers dodging across the stadium with a ruthless intensity. The crowd around Harry erupted into cheers, making him want to shrink down in case anyone noticed the lone Gryffindor among them. The score was now 110 to 80 in favor of Slytherin.   
  
The teams looked tired. Harry looked around for the snitch and saw it at the same time his father did. James turned hard in the air and flew ninety degrees to the direction the snitch was in, drawing the Slytherin seeker off course. Then he turned hard again and dodged past his opponent and closed on a snitch that didn't seem to dive away as Harry would have expected it to. Lucky bastard, Harry thought.  
  
The Gryffindor fans rose to their feet in a wave of screaming. The teams were landing and the Gryffindors were literally pummeling each other in their glee. Harry watched his father hug the other chaser, a tall boy who couldn't stop bouncing on his toes in his happiness. At that, the memory faded out.  
  
Harry stood up and took a step back, surprised to be returned so jarringly from the bright afternoon to the dank dungeons. He couldn't meet Snape's gaze. Somehow the fact that Snape of all people had done that for him left him weak and unsettled.  
  
"You are going to be late for your next class," Snape said factually. He scribbled out a note on a torn corner of parchment and handed it to Harry, who took it blindly.  
  
Harry felt too stunned to even say thank you. He headed for the door, working to regain his mental balance. Snape's voice brought him up short. "And TRY," Harry jumped at that sharp word, "to study for Potions before the next class."  
  
Harry nodded and left the room.   
  
His Transfiguration class was already well under way when Harry arrived. He walked over to McGonagall and handed her the note before going to the seat his friends had saved for him. As he put his books down he glanced at their faces and saw stark trepidation there.  
  
"Harry?" Hermione whispered as he took his seat.   
  
Harry shook his head in wonderment then looked up at her and smiled as the memory of the Quidditch match rushed through him.   
  
"Harry?" Hermione nearly choked.   
  
"Blimey," Ron breathed. "'d he give you some kind of potion?"  
  
"No," Harry said as though that made no sense. He saw McGonagall moving toward them "Not now," Harry whispered.  
  
"Potter, did you get detention from Professor Snape?" she asked as she peered at him through her half-moon glasses, still holding the note out in her hand.  
  
"No ma'am," Harry replied politely.  
  
"All right. Seemed a little early in the year for that, frankly." She stepped away.  
  
Later, out on the lawn, Ron and Hermione wouldn't let the topic rest. "Look, I don't want to go into it in detail," Harry snapped at them which brought them up short instantly. He sighed at their ultra carefulness and tried to explain. "Snape just repeated a few things Dumbledore had said and somehow coming from him they seemed much more . . . critical."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like the fact that I care and feel pain. That's the one weapon I have that Voldemort doesn't and giving that up is going to get me killed."  
  
"That doesn't sound like a weapon," Ron said.  
  
Harry gave him a pained look, finally, he said, "Ron, I didn't tell you guys this but, in the middle of the battle in the Ministry Entrance Hall, Voldemort completely took me over and tried to get Dumbledore to kill me to get at him."  
  
Ron squeaked in horror and Hermione put her hand over her mouth.   
  
"What happened?" Hermione managed, muffled by her hand.  
  
Harry hesitated a long time. "I wanted him to. I was in agony. It was like crucio times ten having him inside me. And I thought, if he kills me, I'll get to see Sirius. Voldemort couldn't keep a hold of me when I was feeling that emotion." He paused, pained by memory. "So it is a weapon, you see."  
  
His friends didn't look too convinced but they didn't argue.  
  


--888888--

  
  
After dinner, Harry had Occlumency with Dumbledore again. Harry didn't hesitate to use the knocker. "Come in, Harry," Dumbledore invited and Harry opened the door. On the desk were two cold butterbeers. Harry sat down in the straightbacked chair opposite the Headmaster's. Dumbledore pushed a bottle over to Harry, watching him closely.  
  
Harry thanked him and, suddenly thirsty, drank down half of it. "Are we practicing the same partitioning thing again today, sir?"  
  
"Yes, Harry. We are." Dumbledore sat back with his bottle. "Are you feeling a little better?"  
  
Harry nodded, flushing a little.  
  
"I am very glad to hear that," Dumbledore said.  
  
Harry frowned. "I was trying to get away from the pain," he commented.  
  
"Was it working?"  
  
"Yes. But I was getting away from everything else too."  
  
"Fun is one of the reasons for existing," Dumbledore said.  
  
Harry smiled lightly at that.  
  
"Well, shall we see how well your basic mode holds up before we return to the partitioning?" At Harry's nod, Dumbledore said, "When you are ready, just nod."  
  
Harry closed his eyes a moment to prepare. He looked at the headmaster and nodded  
  
Dumbledore's mind caught for just an instant then slid away. He smiled broadly. "Very good, Harry." He toasted the Harry with his butterbeer before banishing the half-full bottle.  
  
They fell into a rhythm of Harry thinking of something to hide and Dumbledore retrieving it. After a half hour Harry didn't feel like he was making any progress and he was getting tired.  
  
"Are we on the hundredth time, yet?" Harry asked.  
  
"Not yet, my boy. Don't get discouraged, let's go again."  
  
Harry realized that the repeated practices he'd had with Snape last year were really how you had to learn this. At that thought of Snape, Harry thought of the Quidditch Match just as Dumbledore got through. The Headmaster froze. "Did you steal another look into Professor Snape's pensieve, my boy?" he asked in a serious tone, eyes sharply blue.  
  
"No, sir," Harry said honestly. At Dumbledore's extremely doubtful look, Harry added, "He let me."  
  
Dumbledore blinked in surprise. "Since I am certain you have not mastered partitioning, I have to believe you."  
  
"It was after he yelled at me for being glum."  
  
Dumbledore leaned back with a stunned expression and steepled his fingers. "He yelled at you?"  
  
"Yes." Then in a rush, Harry explained, "He said everyone was doing their part and I had to do mine and repeated what you said about feelings being the only weapon I had and that my father would not approve." Harry took a breath. He almost wanted to laugh at Dumbledore's expression.  
  
"Well, I had believed Professor Snape beyond surprising me, but apparently I was mistaken. I am very grateful he did that, Harry. Some of those things are much more powerful coming from him."  
  
"Yeah," Harry breathed. "He doesn't normally have any concern for my well-being, so it jolted me out of it."  
  
"I do trust Professor Snape completely, Harry."  
  
"Hermione keeps reminding me of that."  
  
Dumbledore smiled at that. "Well, Harry. Why don't we stop for today. I apologize for falsely accusing you."  
  
"It's all right, sir. I learned my lesson about pensieves last time."  
  


--888888--

  
  
Harry continued to feel more like his old self as the term progressed. He found he could manage to have enough fun to balance out the pain that was slowly loosening its grip on him.   
  
Unfortunately for Harry, at the same time, others were starting to get their grip and darker plans were falling into motion. 


	2. Messages and Masks

Chapter 2 - Messages and Masks  
  
Hogsmeade weekend came bright and sunny and full of the promise of an escape from continuous studies.   
  
"I have to get some new quills. I lost three last week," Hermione said as they left the Three Broomsticks. "You guys go on to Zonko's and I'll meet you back at the gate."  
  
Harry and Ron took a long time in Zonko's trying to decide whether the Whizzbies or the Zepher smoke was a better purchase. Finally they made it back to the castle gate beside the lake, surprised that Hermione hadn't beaten them there. They hung out for a while chatting about Quidditch and which girls would be most likely to say yes if Harry asked them out for coffee. Students passed them on their way back to the castle and it started to get late.  
  
"Stay here, Ron. I'm going to go look for her in town."  
  
"No, you stay here," Ron insisted.  
  
At Ron's determined expression, Harry relented. Ron ran back into the town and looked around him and down each street before moving out of sight. Even Hermione couldn't spend this long in a quill shop. Meanwhile, Harry started asking every group of students who passed if they had seen Hermione.  
  
Luna, walking alone with her usual dreamy expression, was the only one. "She was in the post office about an hour ago." She stopped and looked at Harry. "Do you want me to go look?"  
  
"Ron is, but . . . would you?"  
  
"She doesn't seem like the type to get lost." Luna shrugged and walked back along the street, peering into each window without regard to what kind of shop it was. Harry was annoyed at first but then realized that was the rational way to do it, as Hermione was clearly not behaving normally, since she wasn't here like she said.  
  
It was getting close to curfew when Ron and Luna returned. Ron looked a little frantic and he shook his head as he approached Harry. "Maybe she went back to the castle?" Luna suggested.  
  
"She said to meet her here and Hermione is always spot on with that," Ron commented.  
  
They stood in a tense silence a each deep in their own thoughts. Luna broke it by saying, "Well, I'll go up to the castle and see if she's checked in. If she has I'll see if they'll let me come back to get you. If she hasn't I'll tell a teacher."  
  
"Thanks, Luna," Harry said. His imagination was running full tilt now. When Luna was gone, Harry whispered, "Malfoy keeps threatening to get even."  
  
Ron, still unnerved, said, "Yeah, but I saw him and his thugs and they didn't look occupied with anything more than Honeydukes chocolates. I gave them a good eyeing, too."  
  
"I saw them go by a long time ago," Harry added.   
  
It grew darker.  
  
Luna finally got Filch to tell her that Hermione had not checked in. He seemed keen to know where Harry and Ron were because he was hoping they would be late. Luna moved on and found McGonagall in the Great Hall speaking with another student as everyone gathered for dinner. Luna went over and tugged at McGonagall's robe.  
  
"Ms. Lovegood?" McGonagall asked over her spectacles.  
  
"They've lost Hermione," Luna said.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Harry and Ron. They were supposed to meet her at the gate to Hogsmeade. I came ahead. Curfew is almost up and I don't think they are going to leave."  
  
"Go and tell the headmaster, Luna," McGonagall pointed at the head table and stalked out.  
  
Luna wandered up to the head table where Dumbledore was speaking in low tones with Professor Sprout. "Ehem," Luna cleared her throat.  
  
Dumbledore turned his bright gaze to her.  
  
"Professor McGonagall said to tell you, um. Well it is like this, Harry and Ron have lost Hermione in Hogsmeade and I guess Professor McGonagall has gone to look."   
  
Dumbledore stood up and scanned the table. Snape's gaze came up to meet his and Dumbledore flicked his head at him very subtlely. "Sprout, get Flitwick and come with me."  
  
Harry's stomach turned over when he looked up at the path to the castle and saw McGonagall striding down the path, followed closely by Dumbledore, Flitwick and Sprout.  
  
"What happened, Potter?" McGonagall asked sharply.  
  
Harry related how they had split up, estimating times as best he could. His expression grew pained near the end. "This isn't good, is it, Professor?"  
  
She breathed in and didn't answer him. The teachers headed into town with strict instructions for Harry and Ron to stay put and stay alert. Harry pulled out his wand and he and Ron leaned back-to-back against the sign into town.  
  
Over a half hour later, the teachers returned. Dumbledore looked at the boys. "It is as you said. No one has seen her since the post office and the quill shop after she left you."  
  
Harry's face took on a look of determination and Dumbledore's index finger flicked hard under his chin. "Don't try it, Harry. It is exactly what Voldemort would want you to do."  
  
Harry frowned but obeyed.   
  
"Volde-!" Ron choked. "You think that -?"  
  
Dumbledore turned to him. "Until we see evidence otherwise, Mr. Weasley, we shall assume the worst. If we find that Ms. Granger has fallen asleep in a field of poppies we shall chide her gently and be grateful. But until that time . . ." He turned and started on the path back to the castle. "There are a few students I would like to question." Ron and Harry followed reluctantly, giving the village repeated backward glances as they rounded the lake.  
  
Harry, Ron and Ginny had stayed awake in the common room and were staring at the dwindling fire when McGonagall found them. She forced a calming draught on each of them and sent them to bed.  
  
As they headed up the stairs, Ron stopped and said to Harry. "You know how you were at the beginning of the year and Hermione and I were trying to be nice to you? Well, I apologize for that. If you tried to be nice to me right now, I'd hit you one."  
  
"Ron," Harry chided him. "I'm sorry too. If it weren't for me, this wouldn't have happened."  
  
Ron stopped on the landing and stared at his feet. "Harry, I've never regretted being your best friend and I don't intend to start now." They opened the door to their dormitory and crept in.  
  
Hermione opened her eyes and stared at the silk scarves wrapped tightly around her wrists. The second thing she noticed was that her robes were soaked with dew and her throat was sore from the cold night air. Dawn spread a pink light around the forest floor as she shifted and stopped with a gasp. Four hooded Death Eaters stood around her in silence.  
  
One of them, upon seeing Hermione awake, came and crouched before her. "Nice touch, don't you think?" Belletrix Lestrange asked as she pulled her hood and mask back and put her nose right up to Hermione. Her breath smelled of garlic as she said, "The silk, I mean."  
  
"Lovely," Hermione commented, then cleared her throat. The other Death Eaters turned toward them, but didn't move. They rest remained hooded.   
  
Belletrix left her alone for an hour or so, until the full light of morning dappled the forest floor. "Your knight in shining armor is late, by my estimate," Belletrix finally said to break the quiet of the forest. "I think he needs a little encouragement." With a grin as though she were enjoying herself immensely, she pulled out a howler kit: basically a blank red note card and envelope where the notecard had a little pull tab for recording.  
  
"Let's practice one, shall we. A bit misnamed, I should think," she said, holding up the outer wrapping that said, howler'. "We are going for something I would call a 'screamer'." She smiled happily again.  
  
Hermione narrowed her eyes at the woman and braced herself. When the crucio hit her she gasped and tried to flail herself away, but she managed to not even make a peep. Breathing heavily when the spell stopped, she gave Belletrix a defiant glare.  
  
"Well. I am impressed," she said and then added as though speaking of a basket of kittens, "You look so soft on the outside."   
  
The curse hit again and Hermione managed to only gargle incoherently. She was definitely screaming on the inside and starting to wish for unconsciousness. When the spell stopped again, one of the other hooded figures approached. "You are too blunt, Belletrix." It was Snape's voice. He took the howler card away from her.  
  
Hermione managed to not react visibly to that, although her heart pounded madly. Dumbledore must know he is here, she thought wildly. He would have every teacher under his direction and out looking.  
  
"You are complicating things, Severus. Our Lord will not be pleased."  
  
"Let me worry about that," he said sharply and pulled out his wand. "Ms. Granger," Snape said in an excruciatingly conversational voice. "We are going to send this message in order to get the required response from Mr. Potter. I am sure you understand that."  
  
Rather than look at him as though to penetrate the doublespeak, she looked away with a scowl and decided that he was still on their side, but playing his part. Which meant she had to play hers. _But I don't want Harry to come_, she thought madly_. It is a trap_. _ I won't urge Harry into a trap; I refuse._ But Snape was bringing his wand around and he was trying to save her from more of the cruciatus curse and if she gave that away then he would be in trouble and. . .  
  
A very strange spell hit Hermione at that moment. Snape hadn't made a sound, so she had no idea what it was. It felt like electricity, like having a battery wired across your hands and feet. She yelped and glared at him. The spell stopped and Snape said, "I think we are ready." He made a show of peeling the tab off the howler. His wand sliced in the air again and this time Hermione was ready. She screamed out her helplessness at the situation, then screamed her agony at saving herself and helping to trap Harry.  
  
"Goodness," Belletrix commented when the echoes faded.  
  
Snape sealed the envelope and tossed it to one of the others, who called a ruffled brown owl down from a tree to take it.  
  
"What spell was that?" Belletrix asked eagerly. She fake pouted at the tears that had formed in the corners of Hermione's eyes.   
  
"It is not just the spell; it is the the Legilimency that goes with it," Snape stated.  
  
"I never mastered that. What a pity." She sighed theatrically.  
  
Hermione put her head on her knees and didn't look up at her professor. It seemed like the right part of the role to play, like she didn't expect any help from him.  
  
"You must really work to make these children hate you, Severus," Belletrix commented as she looked at their captive.  
  
"Oh, he does," Hermione commented into her arms so that only Belletrix could hear it. She pumped all of her frustration about Harry's treatment by Snape into her voice and it came out nice and nasty, and full of angry tears.  
  
Belletrix laughed heartily. "How do you keep dear Dimplemore in the dark, Severus?"  
  
"He always wants to see the good in everyone. It makes him easy to manipulate. And the students always complain about every hard professor. They are incessant whiners." Snape sounded like he meant that.  
  
Breakfast in the Great Hall was under way when a few morning owls came in. Everyone pointed at the red envelope as it was conveyed to Harry who looked up at it in confusion. "Harry Potter" was written on it in a disturbingly familiar hand that Harry couldn't place.  
  
"Open it!" Ron shouted and covered his ears.  
  
Harry didn't realize immediately that the teachers were on their feet. He looked up, surprised to find McGonagall bearing down on him with a look of purpose. Harry, angry at them for not finding his friend overnight, ripped open the envelope with purpose. Hermione's screams filled the Great Hall, making McGonagall stop in the middle of the aisle and close her eyes a long moment. The card dissolved in Harry's hand.  
  
The entire Hall had gone completely silent. Ron whimpered into his hands. As the echoes faded from the stone walls, Harry thought, _That isn't Hermione in pain; that is Hermione pissed off._  
  
As McGonagall came closer, Harry threw his arm out to hand her the envelope, suddenly remembering where he had seen that handwriting. It was one of three missing staff members this morning, though Harry assumed that Flitwick and Hagrid were still searching the forest for clues and not tormenting Hermione. She grabbed the envelope and glanced at it, then at Harry, who glared at her.  
  
Harry turned from Professor McGonagall as though she didn't matter and sat back down to deal with Ron. The rest of the school sat in stillness as Harry grabbed Ron's hands and peeled them from his face. Ron refused to budge. Harry stood back up and grabbed his friend and whispered in his ear that it was a fake. Ron jerked back and looked at Harry for confirmation. They stared at each other, then Ron calmed considerably. He pushed his breakfast away, though, which really showed how upset he still was.  
  
Harry finally chanced a glance up at the staff table. The teachers, including McGonagall, were gathered around the headmaster, their heads close together as they conversed. Fake screams or not, Harry was losing patience.  
  
Dumbledore stood up and addressed the students. "As you have undoubtedly figured out, we have an abduction situation on our hands with Ms. Granger." The school started whispering madly. "We are certain this is an isolated incident, but nonetheless, no one is allowed outside the castle walls until further notice. All outdoor activities are cancelled. Some of your classes may be cancelled. A revised schedule will be posted." Dumbledore had started out a little shaky but, by the end of his speech, his voice carried a lot of force. "If you will please excuse your teachers while they deal with this crisis. . ." he added as the teachers moved off.  
  
McGonagall swept back down between the tables. She grabbed Harry by the back of his robes as though he were in serious, serious trouble. "I'm coming too!" Ron shouted and leapt from his bench and followed along on the other side of the table. "If you insist, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said, tightlipped.  
  
McGonagall dragged Harry to her office. "Potter, you knew I was coming to cancel the howler," she said angrily as she slammed the door to her office.   
  
"What have you got to hide all of a sudden?" Harry asked, anger building.  
  
"The other students do not need to hear that. They are not in any danger."  
  
"Yet," Harry snapped. "Some of them still don't believe Voldemort is back," Harry pointed out.  
  
"You should at least have had a little sense not to publicize your friend's torment."  
  
Harry chuckled a little and McGonagall stared at him as though he had completely lost it.  
  
"She would want it this way, I am sure, Professor," Harry said. "Wouldn't you? All alone with a bunch of Death Eaters, thinking of all the happy students tucking into a nice breakfast back in the Great Hall. How nice to imagine that it would all be ruined by one little letter. . ." Harry's sweet voice shifted to vicious. ". . .intended to get people off their bums to rescue her."  
  
McGonagall looked away from Harry and moved to the far side of the office. "Don't you think we are working on it? There is more at stake here than you realize."  
  
"No, I realize it. I recognized the handwriting on the envelope. He intended me to I'm sure."  
  
"What!?" Ron exclaimed. McGonagall fidgeted with the papers and things on her desk.  
  
"Just a second, Ron." Harry said to his friend. "Give me a time limit I can live with or I go ballistic right now," he said in an even voice.  
  
"You are not in a position to make ultimatums, young man," McGonagall responded in a hard tone. She was more angry than Harry ever remembered seeing her. "You will go to your room and stay there. Now."  
  
Hermione was getting stiff. Hours had passed since the howler had been sent off. At first she had been happy that Harry hadn't gone off the deep end. Now she wasn't so sure. The morning passed into afternoon. Her stomach growled at her.   
  
One of the other Death Eaters grew bored and gradually moved closer to her over the course of a half hour, finally crouching beside her and giving her a tilted head expression that reminded Hermione of Crabbe. A rough hand reached out and touched her cheek. "You are very pretty," he said. "Too pretty."  
  
_Uh, oh,_ Hermione thought and decided that she had been lucky up until then. With great effort, she fought down the instinct to check where her professor was, whether he was close enough to hear this. "Funny," Hermione commented, "no one has ever said that."  
  
"I believe it," Belletrix said. Hermione hadn't noticed her approach, but she crouched about ten feet away and plucked at the carpet of pine needles. Hermione didn't know whether this crazy woman might be an ally in this or not.  
  
"You should be nice to Constantz," he said. "Constantz will be nice to you." He tried to run his fingers through her hair, and Hermione jumped back as far as her bonds would allow. He grabbed her violently and pressed his mouth over hers without removing his hood. Even through the thin fabric, he nearly sucked the breath out of her. He then shoved her back and looked at her.  
  
Hermione's eyes narrowed to slits. "Give me a wand and try that again," she said in a low voice.  
  
Snape, who had been feigning indifference turned when Goyle did, in response to that comment.  
  
"You have a lot of spunk," Belletrix said. "If it were up to me, I'd give you the wand just to see how it turned out."  
  
Hermione continued to glare at Constanz Crabbe. Her eyes fairly dared him to try again. Snape hadn't thought she had that much in her either. He frowned inside his hood; he was fast reaching a point of no return, where he was going to have to make a decision: one with far-reaching ramifications. He knew Dumbledore would be insistent that no harm come to this student, at the same time as he would not want to lose Snape's inside view of Voldemort's organization. One clearly outweighed the other in the grand view but, in the immediate, the other had precedence. Too bad if they were in total conflict.  
  
Snape found himself wishing Potter would hurry up and fall into their trap to avoid his need to decide, even though he suspected Dumbledore had locked the boy in the dungeon to prevent it. It looked that way given the long time that had elapsed.  
  
Crabbe was closing in on Hermione again. Snape thought of forcing Belletrix to stop him, but that interference would be seen later by the Dark Lord almost certainly when he next examined the woman's mind, which he seemed to do frequently just for the sheer communal joy of it.  
  
Hermione snapped at the man with her teeth, which made him back off. Snape took a few steps in their direction. "We do need her whole long enough to lure the boy in," Snape commented, as though bored with the notion of capturing other replacement bait.  
  
"I won't hurt her too much. Not if she is nice to me."   
  
Hermione had backed up against the tree as far as her bonds allowed, so Crabbe's hand ran over her hair this time when he attempted it. "Soft," he murmured.  
  
_Fat chance, that_, Snape thought to himself. He then heard a very unusual noise remarkably like the snapping of false teeth, as unlikely as that was. He narrowed his eyes and looked around carefully. The other Death Eaters were watching the entertainment. Glancing around surreptitiously, Snape stepped back a few yards to get out of the way of whatever Potter had cooked up.  
  
"Leave me alone!" Hermione shouted and, as if on, cue a thousand hexed pairs of wind-up false teeth descended. Snape threw a shield spell around himself, and the teeth aiming for him bounced off and picked another target. Crabbe and Goyle howled as they were bitten in a hundred places at once. Belletrix swatted at them casually and picked them off with a spell in an easy rhythm. Snape longed to curse. This had the hallmark of a lone Potter rescue. He would shout the boy senseless when he next got the chance; if he got the chance.  
  
An explosion went off overhead and powder fluttered down on them. Snape stared at the snow-like world in confusion until it revealing two other cloaked Death Eaters that even Snape didn't know were there. Revealed now, the teeth descended on them as well. Dirvish and Nott stood up and tossed off their invisibility cloaks and beat at the attacking teeth. Snape glanced over at their captive and shook his head. Ms. Granger was gone.  
  
Snape rushed over to the tree where the girl had been and looked around. Two pairs of tracks led away from the roots through the powder. Something about the tracks didn't look quite right. "They are getting away!" Snape yelled and ran in the direction following the trail. The dark prints in white powder gradually changed to white prints on forest carpet. Belletrix overtook Snape; Crabbe and Goyle huffed behind them. Snape glanced back in time to see Dirvish and Nott go down, apparently struck by spells.   
  
By the time they caught up to the magical shoes that were leading them on a merry chase, Snape was certain the boy would be gone. They stalked back to the center of the circle and looked around. Snape looked as disgusted as the rest, given that he was faced with returning to one cocky Gryffindor.  
  
"I have to go back and try to intercept them. Put a hard memory charm on Ms. Granger," he said and stalked over to his broom and grabbed it up. No one moved to stop him. Dirvish and Nott were still unconscious, making Snape curious what Potter had hit them with. He would undoubtedly get a chance to ask him.   
  
Belletrix grabbed her broom as well. "All of you. Take to the sky, see if we can find them."  
  
Above them a short distance away, Harry sailed between the upper tree branches, his arm wrapped around Hermione, his invisibility cloak fluttering around them, probably only partially covering them as a result. Their progress was slow but he felt confident that this was the safest route. Above the tree tops they could be spotted for miles; too low and there were other hazards, like the centaurs and spiders.  
  
"You all right?" Harry asked her once he decided they were far enough away to not be heard.  
  
She nodded. "You were just in time."  
  
"It looked that way. I'm going to kill Snape when we get back."  
  
"He was moving in to intervene, which was a very bad idea."  
  
"Frig that," Harry said. They dipped low below a giant willow with drooping branches, then back up again.  
  
"Snape saved me from Belletrix earlier, so don't be too hard on him. Did you like the howler?" Hermione asked.   
  
Harry grinned. "I opened it in the middle of the Great Hall even though it was clear McGonagall was coming to take it away. She was really angry at me for that. I got the message though, between your pissed off hollering and Snape's handwriting. Bought me a little time to prepare."  
  
Harry was getting the hang of this tree flying and picked up the pace considerably. "Whoa," Hermione said as the branches rushed past. Harry slowed down some. When they were about three quarters of the way back to the castle, Harry dipped to a stop and landed. It was early evening now and thick clouds had moved in, making the forest floor very dark.  
  
"Why are we stopping?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Are you hurt?" Harry asked her, grabbing her shoulder.  
  
"No, just wondering what you are thinking."  
  
Harry frowned. "We have to be found by Snape, otherwise his spying days are over and maybe his life." Harry walked a little ways and looked around. "We need to find someplace to wait. I think it is starting to rain."  
  
Indeed, the patter of drops on the upper leaves began in earnest. It would be a while before it trickled down to them on the forest floor, giving them some time. Eventually they found a hollow old tree. Hermione used a Scourgify spell to clear out the brush and cobwebs as well as a large hedgehog. As they climbed inside, large, spattering droplets started to pelt the ground.  
  
Harry leaned back against the old wood and let himself relax.   
  
"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said and took his hand.  
  
"Sorry I couldn't get there sooner. Sorry we split up in Hogsmeade," Harry said. He was tired now more than relieved. Hermione's hair was badly tangled, he whinged at the thought of her having to comb it out.  
  
"Where is Ron?" she asked, starting to pull at a few tangles in her locks as though noticing his gaze.  
  
"Somehow he got a double dose of the calming potion McGonagall tried to slip us. I don't know how it happened," he added with extra innocence.  
  
Hermione laughed.  
  
"I was afraid of having him along. He was so freaked out by the howler. I tried to explain that you were angry and screaming not terrorized or in pain, but he didn't quite believe me."  
  
"You caught that?"  
  
"Wasn't that the point?" Harry asked.  
  
"Maybe in Snape's mind. He took over from Belletrix and left me no choice. I was handling the Crucio just fine, thank you."  
  
Harry ran his fingers through his own hair, tugging on it in the back nervously. "Hermione, don't put yourself through something like that on my account, please."  
  
They fell silent. As the gloom gathered, the wind picked up. They shifted closer together for warmth until Harry just gave in and wrapped himself around Hermione.  
  
"Just don't tell Ron," Harry said.  
  
"Nope."


	3. Toil and Trouble

Chapter 3 - Toil and Trouble  
  
Hermione drifted off, leaning against Harry. As she slept, he marveled at how easy it was to hold her. He would never have imagined that. Clearly he needed to understand this better. He was also getting the sense that, to get this to work out right, he was going to have to take some action. He closed his eyes, cleared his mind and, for the heck of it, partitioned it off as he had been taught. He shook his head and braced himself to look for Snape with his mind. Dumbledore damn well better be right.  
  
The Hogwarts teachers and Ministry Aurors were combing the skies above the forest. Snape flew out with them, taking the route that directly connected the DE site, where the girl had been held, to the castle. He flew slowly, keeping a close watch below him. The rain had finally eased, making the task far less annoying. What he detected eventually caught him entirely off guard. Snape circled back and tried to catch it again. He thought about Harry Potter and his intense dislike of the boy. That let the boy right in and Snape knew exactly where they were.  
  
With gradual movements, Snape circled away from the rest of the searchers, then down into the trees.  
  
It was nearly dusk at the bottom of the forest, which meant there was still good light for flying above. "Come on," Harry said, shaking his friend awake. "We have to get going."  
  
Hermione stretched her neck and crawled out behind him. "Do you think it's safe?" she asked as they both looked up through the tree tops at the cloudy sky peeking through.  
  
Harry didn't answer. He held his broom with both hands and slammed it headlong into a tree, chipping the end off and cracking it halfway down.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione said and ran over to him. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Making it clear why we couldn't fly. Don't interfere; he is almost here." Harry leaned his forehead against a rough-barked tree the way a Druid might and, biting his lip, rasped his forehead hard against it, bringing out blood. "I am making it look like we had a collision."  
  
"And I didn't get hurt?" She crossed her arms and looked at him doubtfully as he dabbed at his bleeding head.  
  
"We'll say I was in front. I hope Pomfrey buys the head injury."  
  
"Tell her your head hurts on the back, not the front. You said 'he is almost here.' Whom are you talking about?"  
  
"Me," Snape said as he glided to a stop beside them. He looked at Harry's recent injury and down at his broom. That might work," he commented. "No one would imagine you of all people would do that intentionally."  
  
"Some things are more important than others," Harry said in a low tone.  
  
"I'll take Ms. Granger. If you are found walking, that would be more believable."  
  
Harry took a deep breath then hesitated as he watched Snape hover the broom for Hermione. One part of him screamed to not trust him and the other wanted desperately to believe Dumbledore. A memory spell was probably Hermione's worst nightmare. And one strong enough to wipe out more than a day would impact everything its victim did for weeks or months afterward. Harry grimaced and turned away from them and started walking, dragging his beloved broken broom behind him.  
  
Halfway up to the treetops, Snape halted their ascent and hovered. "I assume you know, as you seem to know everything, the side effects of a Gimble Memory Charm?"  
  
Hermione, who was bent over the broom in front, nodded. Fear coursed through her. "I'll take a Crucio; you have one of those?"  
  
Snape, whose arm was loosely around the girl's shoulders from behind, tightened it as a stiff breeze shifted their hovering. "I am not actually going to use it on you, Ms. Granger. I have no desire to damage my best Potions student by any means. But you will have to fake it and fake it well. Do you think you can do that? If you seem to be slipping I will give you a potion to mimic the symptoms without causing you injury but you will still have to make it back to the castle and at continue pretending at least for a few hours."  
  
Hermione nodded and exhaled a breath she didn't know she had been holding.  
  
"Granger, you truly came with me willingly, believing I would use such a memory charm on you?" Snape asked in disbelief.  
  
"Harry trusted you. He walked away. What else was I going to do?" She sounded very tired.  
  
"Potter's faith in the headmaster is disturbingly unshakable," Snape commented. "Are you ready?"  
  
Hermione nodded and pulled herself forward away from him, not comfortable with their proximity. The broom swerved and rose upward. Snape headed directly for the castle. McGonagall spied them first and rushed to join them.  
  
"Ms. Granger, Hermione, are you all right?" she yelled over the wind.  
  
Hermione nodded, keeping her face down to protect it from the rain, which had started up again. The searchers were calling out to each other and congregating. "Granger, where is Harry?" someone asked. Hermione thought it might be Tonks. She shook her head. She wouldn't know that, would she. Poor Harry was going to have to walk the rest of the way.  
  
They landed on the roof of the hospital wing. Dumbledore came out to meet them. Snape stood the girl up as they landed, and she stood dumbly there in the rain. The other teachers and Ministry wizards were landing around them. "Granger, go with the Headmaster," Snape said and gave her a little shove. Snape waved the others off to keep looking.  
  
Hermione walked forward slowly as though in a daze, the rain beating at her, unnoticed. "The stress seems to have been too much," Snape commented as he opened the door to the stairs and held it open for the headmaster, who gave him a searching look as he steered Hermione through. Snape met his look with an innocent and confused expression.  
  
"Where is Harry?" Dumbledore asked. "Ms. Granger?" She shook her head. Dumbledore looked at Snape.  
  
A Ministry Wizard had followed them in and Pomfrey came up from below to take Hermione off their hands. Snape said, "He seems to have freed Ms. Granger with a bit of a battle, but I do not know where he is." Which was the truth. He assumed the boy could walk in a predetermined direction, though it would get harder after dark.  
  
Hermione was laid out on a bed, where she stared at the ceiling between long blinks. Dumbledore watched her, then turned to Snape. "Go back and help look for Potter. It will be very dark soon."  
  
Harry's feet were hurting. He forced himself to not think about it which proved to be easy. All he had to do was remember the last thing Crabbe said to Hermione right before he released his hexed Zonko's cache. He would walk for a year nonstop if he had to in order to prevent that.  
  
A crashing through the trees made Harry jump. "Grawp," he breathed in relief.  
  
The giant leaned down and sniffed him, nearly inhaling his hair. "Har-rie," the giant said in greeting. "You come, visit?"  
  
"Sure. Let Snape sweat for a while. Dumbledore will have gotten ahold of him by now."  
  
Harry sat down and had a very slow and simple conversation with the giant although, by previous standards, it was a pretty intellectual one. Grawp liked to eat deer and they were easy to catch. The Centaurs ran away from him and they were fun to chase. Hagrid brought lots of nice games and treats.  
  
Finally, Harry started to feel a little guilty about worrying everybody, although he wasn't relishing the complete chewing out he was going to get. That and he knew he was going to be in detention for the rest of the year. As Harry said goodbye and walked away from the waving giant he thought maybe McGonagall would let him out of detention long enough to play Quidditch. He sighed. At least Ron wasn't in any trouble. Except he too was going to be really, really mad at Harry. That thought almost made Harry turn around to go talk to Grawp some more.  
  
Harry was wired with stress by the time he made it to the castle. He stood at the edge of the trees and watched the buzz of activity on the lawn. Torches lit the grounds in a flickering, spotty light. They had called in a lot of wizards. Harry thought he even recognized the long punk spikes of Tonks' hair. This was going to be a little awkward, Harry realized, as he watched a formation of wizards on broomstick fly overhead and out over the forest. Harry shook his head and chuckled at all the trouble everyone was going to. _Laugh while you can, Potter_, he said to himself, then stepped out into the torchlight. He froze there for almost a minute before deciding that no one, but no one, would be looking for him right here in this spot. He stomped up to the castle doorway and almost got past Professor McGonagall with a simple, "Busy evening, isn't it?"  
  
She gasped and grabbed the back of his robes in a death grip. "Potter!" she snapped and pulled him around in front of her. Her expression changed instantly as she looked him over. "You're hurt."  
  
"Ran into a tree trying to get away," Harry explained in a rush. He had rehearsed it better than that.  
  
"Hospital wing, now!" she said as she pulled him along behind her, seeming determined not to let him get away this time.  
  
Wizards and teachers called out to Harry in greeting and expressions of relief. He could hear the message that he was back being passed on out to the lawn as they turned the corner and walked along the windows. The door to the ward flew open before them. Harry flinched; he thought only Dumbledore could do that.  
  
"One more," McGonagall said and dropped Harry into the middle of the room. He kept his footing with some effort. He was right about that upcoming chewing out, he decided.  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore said in true pleasure at the site of him. The old wizard stood up and came over to him, putting his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Madame Pomfrey, another patient." Dumbledore brushed his fingers over Harry's scuffed forehead and glanced down at Harry's broom. "Did you run into a tree, Harry?"  
  
"I was rushing," he replied, thinking about the rush to fake the accident as he said it. It came out rather well, although he would undoubtedly be telling the Headmaster the truth later.  
  
Pomfrey forced Harry onto a bed and examined him. "Head doesn't look too bad," she commented, looking him closely in the eyes. Harry remembered and put his hand on the back of his head. "It hurts back here. I don't know why, I didn't hit the back of my head."  
  
"Well, dear, we'll keep you here for a little while then."  
  
Harry looked over at Dumbledore, who appeared to be keeping vigil on Hermione. There was an odd sadness to his eyes. With a jolt, Harry realized that Dumbledore didn't know about the ruse. "Headmaster?" Harry said. "Can I talk to you a minute?"  
  
Dumbledore turned to Harry and then understood the boy actually meant much closer. He stepped over and sat beside him. Harry crooked his finger to bring Dumbledore in closer yet. "She's faking it," he whispered. "Unless you have Snape completely wrong."  
  
Dumbledore sat straight and looked at him. "Professor Snape," Dumbledore mouthed, correcting him. Harry rolled his eyes and glanced at Hermione.  
  
More Ministry wizards came in at that point, Percy leading the pack. "I insist on speaking with the girl on the authority of Cornelius Fudge."   
  
Dumbledore stood and intercepted him. "I will not allow it. She has been through enough for one day, if not one lifetime. Out," he ordered with the full force of his commanding presence. Percy withered and slinked back out, trailing assistants.  
  
Dumbledore moved to stand over Hermione, who continued to mull over the cracks in the ceiling. Her eyes flicked to the headmaster for just an instant and she winked. Harry watched Dumbledore relax and almost smile. He strode across the room. "Pomfrey, let no one bother these two until I give my consent tomorrow. Professor, come with me," he said to McGonagall.   
  
When they reached the Entrance Hall, Dumbledore asked McGonagall to take care of the Aurors for him, as they were mingling near the doorway. Then he turned to Snape. "Severus, a word," Dumbledore said, broaching no excuses.  
  
Snape followed the headmaster up to his office in silence.   
  
"I am amazed that you pulled that off," Dumbledore said in relief. "I was beginning to believe you had lost control of the situation and had to actually use a memory charm on Ms. Granger. Rather fine actress, that young lady." Dumbledore arranged his robes and sat down at his desk. "I did not intend for Harry to get out. I apologize for that. We had a plan that was coming together for the evening-"  
  
"It would have been too late," Snape cut in. "Potter was almost too late as it was."  
  
Dumbledore studied him and Snape explained, "Constantz Crabbe has rather an affinity for young girls. He had perhaps met his match in Ms. Granger, although he was too dim to realize it."  
  
Dumbledore frowned. "Just as well, then. Satisfy my curiosity, will you, as to how young Harry managed it?"  
  
Snape sighed. "It involved a gross of false teeth and rather a lot of bath powder," Snape stated, taking some satisfaction in Dumbledore's bemused expression. "And I am not joking."  
  
"You never do, so I am trying to work that out precisely."  
  
"The teeth were hexed and rather violent and numerous enough to completely distract Ms. Granger's guards. The powder was a mystery to me at first. It descended upon us from above like snow. But it revealed two cloaked Death Eaters I hadn't known were even there."  
  
Dumbledore raised his chin. "Do you think you are under suspicion?"  
  
"I don't know. They may have simply been backup." Snape crossed his arms. "Potter is a student of diversion. He simply cloaked the girl and used two pair of charmed shoes to create a trail leading away through the powder. Then he was able to rescue her at leisure after we gave chase."  
  
"You almost sound impressed, Severus," Dumbledore teased, his eyes sparkling.  
  
Snape gave him a narrow look. "It was what he did next that makes me hold out some hope for him, for all of us." He paused. "He took her only partway to safety and waited for me; his accident was as fake as Ms. Granger's memory difficulties. The faith you have managed to instill in him astounds me, Albus; he handed the girl off to me with only minimal hesitation."  
  
"His trust is heartening; I will admit. I feared I had lost it at the end of last year." Dumbledore looked up at the clock.   
  
"While we are on this topic, there is something else we need to discuss," Snape said.  
  
"I think perhaps I should return to deal with the Ministry wizards. I have been absent quite some time," Dumbledore said dismissively.  
  
Snape looked out at the blackness of the grounds beyond the window. "I think if we are absent, it will imply that I had a difficult time convincing you of my version of events, which would be quite acceptable. I am suspicious of one of Mr. Weasley's assistants and think it worth putting on a show, just in case."  
  
Dumbledore reached behind him to his suddenly steaming, rose-patterned teapot. "Have a spot of tea then, and sit down, Severus."  
  
Snape took the tea cup and sipped it, boiling hot. The pain woke him up fully. "I believe I know what the next plan is regarding Mr. Potter--something Mr. Malfoy has suggested in the past although, he is still ensconced in Azkaban and will presumably not be taking part. If I am right, his son will be, whether he likes it or not."  
  
Snape took another searing sip, and met Dumbledore's curious gaze. "You are not going to like this, Albus . . ."


	4. Necessary Secrets

Chapter 4 - Necessary Secrets  
  
That night in the darkened hospital wing, Harry watched as Pomfrey, sitting in a chair by the door, nodded off. He slipped out of bed and over to Hermione. "Hey," he whispered. In the darkness she grabbed his hand.   
  
"This faking is easy but I can see I am going to hate classes like this. What am I going to say to Percy?" she asked fearfully.  
  
"You have it easy. Just keep saying you don't know." Harry looked over at Pomfrey. "I want to get stories straight. I hope Dumbledore shows up to tell me what the official version is. Or even Snape."  
  
They talked quietly, until Harry heard the door creak. He looked over and watched as a robed figure reached in and waved something under Pomfrey's nose. She slouched even more in her sleep and Snape stepped into the ward.  
  
"You don't trust Pomfrey?" Harry asked as their professor came over.  
  
"One of the mistakes the Order made last time was in trusting too many people at a time. The Order tried to be open where others were closed. It resulted in a lot of unnecessary deaths. The opposite is now practiced: need to know only."   
  
Snape sat down and explained precisely what events they were going to describe if questioned. By the time they finished and Snape seemed assured they knew their part, Harry's head was nodding to his chest. As soon as Snape left, he dropped back onto his bed, asleep at once.  
  
Harry was released the next morning from the hospital wing even though he didn't really want to abandon Hermione. Percy Weasley accosted him on the second corridor he came to.  
  
"Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall's voice rang out as she stalked toward them from the staircase. Percy flinched despite himself. "Take your turn!" she declared and hauled Harry off to her office.   
  
Harry took a seat in the visitor's chair as indicated and fell into a passive posture with a defiant look in his eyes. "I am not going to apologize, Professor, so you can skip ahead to the punishment part."  
  
"And what punishment do you think is fair?" she asked him in a serious tone. She sat on the edge of her desk with her arms crossed, peering at him through her rectangular glasses. "I do not liking being disobeyed."  
  
Harry frowned. "A term's detention seems likely, but maybe only a month so I can play Quidditch?" Harry pleaded.  
  
"Tell me what happened to Ms. Granger and I will consider it."  
  
Harry paused at that and studied her. Was he now in the know and not other members of the Order? Snape's comment last night came back to him, making him guess that she wasn't to know. He blinked at her. "I goofed up. I tried to create a distraction, but it didn't work completely, and one of the Death Eaters got a shot in on her. Why they used that spell, I don't know."  
  
"I suspect I do," McGonagall commented in a hard tone.  
  
"It wasn't Professor Snape," Harry insisted. "He was falling for my diversion intentionally to lead the others away. But the two cloaked ones came at us, and while I was fighting them, one got a shot in on Hermione." Harry said this very sadly. This was roughly the story they were all going to tell, one as close to the truth as possible with the necessary additions.  
  
McGonagall sighed. "Well, let's hope she eventually recovers fully," she said. "A month's detention then, Potter."  
  
Harry stood up, then immediately sat back down. "Thank you, Professor. And do you mind if I stay here until Percy goes away?"  
  
"You may stay until class, but you will miss breakfast."  
  
Harry frowned at that. His stomach complained about missed meals from yesterday.  
  
"Go to breakfast, Potter. She stood and opened her office door, gesturing for him to depart. If you can get rid of Percy Weasley, I'll take a week off your detention."  
  
Harry jumped up at that and dashed out. Percy was waiting for him just down the corridor from McGonagall's door. "I will speak with you _now_, Potter."  
  
Harry sighed about missing yet another meal and followed his friend's brother to the staff conference room. Percy had two male assistants with him: one tall and imposing and the other plump and rosy cheeked. Harry took a seat across from them all. Just as the door was closing, Dumbledore opened it again and peered in at the assemblage. "I insist that a staff member be present if Harry is to be questioned," he stated.  
  
Percy looked extremely unhappy about that. "He is sixteen. He can represent himself."  
  
"While he is at my school, he is my responsibility. The last time the Ministry came to question him, it got a little rough, as I recall." Dumbledore closed the door softly behind him and took a seat beside Harry, peering over his spectacles at Percy.  
  
"Tell me what happened," Percy snapped at Harry. The plump assistant poised his quill over a long scroll, looking expectant.  
  
Harry recounted his modified tale, avoiding the Headmaster's gaze completely so as to not appear to be in collusion. When he was finished, Percy took the notes from the transcriber and glanced over them. "And your punishment for your extreme disobedience to the adults charged with your care?" Percy asked, almost Snape-like.  
  
"A month's detention," Harry replied. He glanced at Dumbledore finally and found a note of sympathy in the old wizard's eyes.  
  
"And I cannot question the girl?" Percy said sarcastically to Dumbledore, who kindly shook his head.  
  
"Her name is Hermione--you know her," Harry pointed out.  
  
Percy pretended to ignore Harry's assertion and stood up with a flushed face. As he stalked out, he said, "You will receive a copy of the report, Headmaster. Jeeves, Rankin, let's go."  
  
The door closed.  
  
Harry grinned. "Make that three weeks' detention," he said.  
  
"Detention is not supposed to be bartered, Harry," Dumbledore said.  
  
"Talk to my Head of House, sir," Harry quipped.  
  
The next day in classes, the students treated Harry with some kind of awed distance. He had no idea what story was circulating since he hadn't told any of his friends what had happened. Ron was still grumpy and not giving Harry more than one-word answers to things. His visit to Hermione hadn't improved his mood, making Harry realize that basically no one else was going to find out the truth about the memory charm. When Harry thought about it more, it made him feel more secure to realize that, but it pained him to think about Ron worrying unnecessarily.  
  
Ron trudged behind Harry to go to classes; apparently his despair didn't negate his need for company.   
  
As they sat down in McGonagall's class, Harry said for what felt like the tenth time, "Ron, the charm will get better, and she will be more like her own self. Really." He looked around and realized that the entire room was listening to them. Harry gave them a helpless frown and put his head down over his parchment to carefully write the lesson title and date at the top. Hermione would kill him if his notes were not up to her standards. He felt isolated from everyone in a way he was not used to. Everyone was upset and uneasy over something that wasn't true, but only he knew it. Harry vowed to have patience with Ron. As soon as Hermione was allowed to seem more normal, in about four to five days, Ron would chirp up, Harry was certain.  
  
The next evening, Harry went up to Dumbledore's office for his lesson. The office was changed around when he arrived. Curtains were pulled over the portraits, and Fawkes' cage had a slipcover over it. The desk was much smaller to make room for a gaudy, overstuffed couch.   
  
Dumbledore stood up from his desk. "Right on time, Harry." He moved over to the couch and gestured for Harry to sit beside him. As he did so, Dumbledore put his arm around him easily. "Are you getting on all right?" he asked.  
  
Harry gave in and leaned into the old wizard. If asked just moments before whether he was above this, he would have insisted he was. But part of him apparently needed some comfort. "It is all right, Harry said. It is strange to know everything is all right when no one else does."  
  
"You understand the need for that?"  
  
"Oh, yes. It makes me feel better knowing it, at the same time as it makes me feel strange. Ron is really mad at me, but I'm not sure if it's because I tricked him into drinking both drugged butterbeers or because he thinks I slipped up and let Hermione get injured."  
  
"You knew the butterbeers were tainted, how?"   
  
Harry shrugged. "McGonagall was acting suspicious."  
  
"You didn't use any Legilimency?" Dumbledore asked him, his hand squeezing Harry's arm a moment.  
  
"I don't think so." Harry thought back. "I'm not sure."  
  
"I think, Harry," Dumbledore finally said, "that we need you to be fully skilled in both arts of the mind. I have arranged with Professor Snape to teach you Legilimency while I continue to teach you Occlumency. Is that all right?"  
  
Harry nodded into Dumbledore's shoulder and suppressed a grimace.  
  
"Good. The old wizard squeezed Harry's arm again. You will have two nights a week with Professor Snape and one with me."  
  
"Wow, that's a lot of nights. Can it count as my detention? Otherwise I won't get any schoolwork done."  
  
"Certainly, Harry. As well, when Quidditch season starts, we can adjust as needed."  
  
Harry relaxed. He hadn't slept long enough the last two nights and, as he leaned his head against Dumbledore, he felt sleep coming up on him fast. The old wizard shifted his arm to pull Harry closer. "You know, Harry, something I didn't tell you at the end of last year, I feel I should confess to you now."  
  
"Mm?" Harry said groggily. Dumbledore gently pulled Harry's glasses off and set them aside.  
  
"I considered taking you in, rather than leaving you with your aunt and uncle. I probably could have protected you from those who would have tried to take revenge on you as well as the spell I placed on your mother's sister. But I could not see how I could arrange it to be fair to you at all. The demands on my time are always so great." Dumbledore set his own glasses aside and leaned back so as not to wake Harry. "I wonder now what it would have been like to have you as a son," he said quietly and patted Harry's unruly hair once. Harry continued to snore softly.  
  
Harry woke up, dazed. He was pressed against a warm robe, which was really strange. "Headmaster?" he said as he sat up and tried to find his glasses.  
  
"You were quite tired, Harry," Dumbledore admonished him gently, handing him his glasses.  
  
Harry winced at the thought that he had been napping so. "I was up half the night arguing with Ron," Harry admitted. Then he looked at the clock, amazed that over an hour had passed. "Oh!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm sorry, Professor--I'm late for a DA meeting."  
  
"Go on then, Harry, by all means. He gave Harry a pat on the back.  
  
Harry stretched and ran his fingers through his hair, then stood and straightened his robes.  
  
"Remember to schedule two evenings with Professor Snape," Dumbledore reminded him as he reached the door.  
  
"Yes, sir," Harry said and with a light blush, went out.  
  
In the Room of Requirement, the students were practicing last meeting's drills. "Sorry I'm late. My meeting with the Headmaster ran a little long."  
  
"Do we have a plan for today?" Cho asked.  
  
"Yes. Yes, we do. Just give me a minute."  
  
"Ron said you were getting Occlumency lessons," Cho commented.  
  
Harry glanced at Ron, who shrugged and looked away. Harry nodded. "Yes, and they are tiring. Give me a minute or two, okay?" he requested and headed over to the counter that ran along below the bookshelves that lined one wall. He leaned hard on it and closed his eyes. This thing with Dumbledore had shaken him up. Ignoring the rest of the students, who were now whispering to give him some privacy, Harry took his time and felt his way around his feelings. He found longing and fear tugging him in opposite directions. He stood up and turned to face his friends.  
  
"We are going to do rejuvenation charms today because, as we found out, getting your fellow wizard off their butt and fighting again is important."  
  
"Can you teach us Occlumency sometime?" Cho asked.  
  
Harry stared at her and then looked around at the other eager faces. "Sure, we can work on that. It takes a ton of time to learn and a lot of self-loathing before you get there, but sure. We can start next meeting. Think about who in this room you would be willing to partner with. Who you would be willing to have know every last thing about you: good, bad, embarrassing, painful, spiteful. You get the idea. If you still want to work on it, we will."  
  
They stared at him.  
  
He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm a little on edge and if I don't get control, I'm going to be a hazard to everyone."  
  
"What does that mean?" Dean asked.  
  
"It means that if I let my emotions get out of control, Voldemort could take me over and kill you all if he felt like it," Harry commented, eyes still closed.  
  
"Harry!" Ron yelled at him.  
  
"Hey," Harry retorted and opened his eyes. "You are the one who told them I had Occlumency lessons."  
  
Ron stepped over to him. "Yeah, but I didn't tell them why!"  
  
"They'd have figured it out. It makes me feel better to tell you all. I've been dishonest to hide it. He shook himself and changed the subject. Let's get started. Anyone feel like leaving, please feel free."  
  
No one moved but they all did look a little stunned.   
  
Ginny piped up. "Harry, we are ready to learn something."  
  
He gave her a smile and stepped over to them. None of them moved away, although there were a few looks of pity that bothered him.  
  
The next day, Harry had to make it through Potions alone. He sat down with the other Gryffindors, Seamus and Parvarti, and took out his notes.   
  
"Potter!" Snape said after he finished the lecture, making Harry cringe. "What do I get if I mix a fermented meal with flies legs and fire salamander scales?"  
  
_Something the Dursleys would have served me for dinner,_Harry thought to himself. "I don't -" he started to say automatically then, remembering his studying from the night before, said, "A base for something." Snape gave him a questioning look. Harry wracked his brain. "A base for poison-drawing plasters?" Harry knew it had something to do with skin.  
  
"Remarkably close for being completely wrong, Potter. Ms. Parkinson?"  
  
Pansy put her hand down and, with a snide look at Harry, said, "A base for skin de-aging plasters."  
  
"Ten points for Slytherin, Ms. Parkinson."   
  
The rest of the class went about as well. At the end, Harry at least had a gradeable potion.   
  
"Stay after, Mr. Potter," Snape sneered at him as he put Harry's potion aside with a dubious expression.  
  
Harry frowned and turned away to come up facing Draco Malfoy, who grinned nastily at Harry. Harry ignored him and stepped back over to his table to put his parchments away and wait.  
  
The last of the students departed and the door boomed closed. Harry looked over at Snape, who sat at his bench with his fingers steepled in front of him. "The headmaster asked me to give you lessons in Legilimency," Snape said.  
  
"He told me, sir," Harry replied.  
  
"We can start this evening. And since we need a second day, Friday is all I have available."  
  
Harry frowned and sighed. "If that's what it has to be, sir."  
  
"My, my, Potter. From somewhere, you seem to have learned some obedience."  
  
"I'd be in detention anyway with McGonagall," Harry shrugged.  
  
"Poor dear," Snape mocked.  
  
Harry looked at him. "You sound like Lestrange, sir," he commented dryly.  
  
"She must be rubbing off," Snape said and stood suddenly. "Get to your next class or you will be late."  
  
Later that evening, Harry sat in Snape's office, trying to keep down the bad memories this place brought up. Snape sat across from him, gazing malevolently over his steepled fingers.  
  
"Legilimency is not the opposite of Occlumency," Snape began. "Occlumency is defensive, passive even. Legilimency is offensive and akin to a violent attack if not done very carefully. Subtlety is required as one usually does not want the victim to realize what is happening to them."  
  
Harry sat listening closely to Snape's lecture as it wound on. When it was finished, Snape sat watching him for a long minute. "You show some promise, Potter, from the incident during Ms. Granger's rescue."  
  
"I didn't know what else to do, sir."  
  
"Yes, necessity can drive one to discover untapped abilities. Repeat again what you did that day to reach me," Snape commanded.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. Snape sat up, silent. A moment later, he felt something tickle in his mind. "Very interesting, Potter."  
  
Harry stopped and opened his eyes. "I barely got started."  
  
"That is enough. I find it interesting that you closed your eyes. Legilimency is almost always done eye-to-eye with the target, as I just explained."  
  
"You said to repeat what I did the other day," Harry defended himself, then quickly added, "Sir."  
  
"Yes, I did. Let's stop for now and return to this on Friday. I want to do a little research before beginning any actual lessons. If you are a latent Legilimens who can contact your target from a distance, I do not wish to risk damaging that skill by teaching you eye-to-eye Legilimency first."  
  
"Does that mean I can go, Professor?" Harry asked brightly.  
  
"Yes, Potter."  
  
Harry stood and released a pent-up breath as he reached for the door. "Until class, sir," Harry said over his shoulder, not waiting for a reply.  
  
Snape stared at his interlocked fingers for a long while after Harry departed, until his need to prepare for the next day's classes drove him back to his classroom.  
  
Hermione was allowed to return to classes two days later, just in time for Potions. They had to make a good show of things for Malfoy, Nott and Parkinson. Harry watched Hermione brace herself before he opened the door to the classroom. They were almost late, Harry for a moment was afraid they were, as everyone was already settled.  
  
Snape crossed his arms and looked them over as they stepped over and sat at their regular table.   
  
The lecture passed. Snape didn't throw any questions their way, for which Harry was grateful. Then brewing began. Halfway through, it was clear to Harry that Hermione was incapable of failing at a potion. He watched her struggle with each ingredient and could almost read her mind. _Mess this one up and it will be ruined--no, _she seemed to be thinking, before moving to the next ingredient, the next step, and repeating the struggle.   
  
Harry looked up and caught Snape's intense gaze from across the room. He picked up his galaga root and sliced off most of the skin, then tossed it into his cauldron. As it began sizzling oddly, he waved his wand and swapped potions in their cauldrons.  
  
Snape turned away as Malfoy called him over, but Harry thought he looked surprised for some reason. The Potions master wandered over to them next. "Ms. Granger, I do believe this is a first."  
  
Hermione winced and really did look to be in agony. To everyone else, it looked as though she was frustrated with her own sudden stupidity, rather than with the simple matter of being faced with a bad grade. Harry hurried to figure out where Hermione had been in her brewing so that he wouldn't ruin this batch as well.  
  
Snape wanded her cauldron away. "It is very strange, Ms. Granger. One would think you were slipped a befuddlement draught or something," he opined coldly.  
  
Harry could see Draco and company laughing behind their hands. _Hang in there, Hermione, it's working,_ Harry thought. _We all have to play our roles._  
  
Friday evening's lesson finally came. Harry left Ron playing games and drinking butterbeer in the common room. Ron seemed to be rubbing it in every evening when Harry left to go to detention, but especially tonight. Harry let it flow past him like water in a river and walked down to the dungeons with a cleared mind.  
  
Snape waved him into the chair opposite his desk and handed him a tome. "Read the indicated pages and we will discuss them. I will not pretend to have firsthand knowledge of this skill of yours, so we are going to proceed by trying to find someone else who understood your skill and read what they have to say about it. If your experience matches what you find in your reading, please make special note of it."  
  
Harry scratched his ear and set to reading. The text was aulde with lots of unnik spellings to the words, so it was slow going. When he finally had slogged his way through it, he looked up.  
  
"Finished?" Snape asked. "I was starting to wonder if you actually could read," he sneered.  
  
"The language is really awkward," Harry said, refusing to get mad.  
  
"What did you think of it?"  
  
"I think he is talking about something else. Let me think about that one. Can I take the book with me and write a translation?" At Snape's doubtful eyebrow, Harry added, "McGonagall would let me do that during detention with her. Otherwise, she tries to come up with something creative." Harry said the last with a wince.  
  
Snape handed him another book and gestured that he could keep them if he wished.  
  
By the end of the next week, Hermione was essentially back to her old self and Harry was tired from trying to take evening lessons after his day lessons. When he next went to his lesson with Dumbledore, the office was still, or back to being decorated like a living room.  
  
Harry took a seat on the couch and leaned back.  
  
"You seem tired still," Dumbledore observed.  
  
"Trying to 'help' Hermione along has been exhausting. I don't know how she has done it all this time. Sometimes I think Ron and I must seem as dense to her."  
  
"Then you are learning a valuable lesson, Harry." Dumbledore carried a butterbeer over to him and sat down. He gave Harry some space today.  
  
Harry thanked him for the butterbeer and sipped it. "I really want to do the lesson today," he said.  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "Of course, my boy. I just want to ask you how your other lessons with Professor Snape are going before we start."  
  
Harry thought he heard a note of concern in the headmaster's voice. "We are reading up on distance Legilimency since Professor Snape thinks I may be able to do that."  
  
"Interesting. But it is going well enough?"  
  
"Mostly," Harry responded and took another sip. He wished he were a Legilimens good enough to read behind Dumbledore's odd expression right at that moment.

* * *

**Notes:** Okay, I am going to try to respond to some of you kooky people who are actually reading this thing. This little bit of afternoon daydream.   
  
First off, the story does have the pairings listed (although hpss isn't quite the normal kind). The story is basically finished, so there you go with that. All you anti-Harry/Ginny are just sad, sad people since that is almost certainly what JKR is putting in book six. I have no particular attachment for this pairing, mostly wrote it into this story to try the notion on for size, but I really think we are stuck with it in canon. Why else did Rowling spend book 5 trying desperately to rescue Ginny's character? And going out of her way to point out that Ginny really is the only one who understands being taken over by Voldemort? Yes, I agree it feels incestual, what with the weasleys being the closest things to real siblings Harry has. Harry/ Ginny is just one short step from Harry/ Ron, really--they are the same darn character.   
  
A, SeperatriX, you made me smile with your notion that there is a maturity to a homosexual relationship with an adult versus a teenage love with a member of the opposite sex. Reminded me of the Spartans. There is a nice scene after the Harry/Ginny stuff starts where Harry learns the hard way that he has to control his Legimency. Maybe worth hanging around for. I think so. I'll have to post a real hp/ss, as soon as I find a home for an xxx story. Anyone have any good posting locations, please let me know.   
  
Thank you to those who pointed out problems with canon, ataraxis, etc. Some I fixed, others can lie. The story was betaed. By someone too kind, really. waves at beta


	5. Beneath the Surface

Chapter 5 - Beneath the Surface  
  
Severus Snape was not a procrastinator by nature. He loathed it in others and avoided it diligently in his own doings. But he had to finally admit that he was procrastinating. The Dark Lord was not pleased with him over this. To force himself to take action, Snape set in motion certain events that would wind to the necessary conclusion at a prescripted moment, leaving him no choice but to prepare for them.  
  
A knock sounded on the door. Potter was actually two minutes early.  
  
Harry came in and sat down in his usual seat. He immediately took out his stack of parchment notes on the books Snape had loaned him and reorganized them quickly.  
  
"Learn anything?" Snape asked with a slightly insulting tone.  
  
"Milliforth seems the closest so far," Harry said, flipping that parchment to the top. At Snape's disgusted look, Harry added, "All I can do is compare experiences, Professor."  
  
"I suppose. I thought Milliforth a bit of a flake." Snape stood up and brought over from his desk the two new books he had today. "We are running out of source material, at which point we will have to decide how to proceed."  
  
Harry nodded and took the heavy tomes and began flipping through them. He took out a parchment and pen from his bag and started transcribing.   
  
"Let me see the other parchments while you are doing that," Snape said. Harry handed them over without pausing in his writing. "I see Ms. Granger is rubbing off on _you_."  
  
Snape took the parchments back to his desk and perused them. He was fast reaching the point of no return, and he started watching Potter instead. When the boy repeated an odd gesture, grabbing his left arm as though he had a dark mark upon it that burned, Snape stood up and stepped over to him.  
  
"What is that about?" Snape asked quietly, dangerously.  
  
Harry looked up at him and then frowned. He was holding his arm at that very moment and couldn't deny the odd gesture. "Maybe you can help with this," Harry said, and started to roll up his sleeve. Snape stood in stillness until he saw the long irritated scratch on the underside of Harry's arm. "I went to Pomfrey this morning and she put something on it, but it's really bothering me again."  
  
Snape bent over it, peering closely.  
  
"I don't mean to interrupt the lesson," Harry was saying, "but Parkinson got me with some kind of ring she had on when she and Goyle tried to bully me in the hallway today."  
  
That appeared to mean something to Snape. He stood up and went to a back cabinet. Strange culminations seemed to happen around Potter; Snape wasn't going to deny that this one would be very useful.  
  
"Take off your robe," Snape ordered. He set a few bottles out on his desk as well as a large jar of cotton.  
  
Harry debated a moment whether he should just wait until he could see Pomfrey again, but the scratch really was irritating him and the bottles before him promised relief. He gave up on rolling up the wide cuff of his robe and slipped it off instead. He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and held his arm out. Snape wetted a piece of cotton with one of the potions and rubbed it on then watched. He repeated this for each potion he had taken out. The last one bubbled when it hit the puffy welt around the otherwise innocent scratch.  
  
"Where did she get that in a time-release form?" Snape wondered aloud. "She didn't brew it herself, I am certain." He went back and took out a thick syrup and mixed the potion into it. "Did you get scratched anywhere else?"   
  
Harry touched a spot near his collarbone where there was a tear in his shirt.  
  
"Take that off as well," Snape commanded. He went back to his cabinet and took out a kit with different plasters and set that nearby.  
  
Harry pulled his shirt open, he couldn't quite see that scratch but it was sore from rubbing on his shirt. He sighed and took off his cotton button-down. He watched Snape apply the thickened remedy to the enflamed scratch on his arm. The heat in the wound eased instantly. He turned his head aside as the same was done to his collarbone. With ease his Professor then spelled the plasters to the right size and applied them. Harry ran his finger over the long one on his arm to make certain it adhered tightly. "Thanks," he said in relief as Snape coated and pressed a plaster over the other smaller cut below his shoulder.  
  
"Stand up," Snape then commanded. Harry obeyed and Snape put his hands on his neck, thumbs tucked under his chin.   
  
"What are you doing?" Harry asked.   
  
"I am assessing how much poison got into your system. Do you feel unwell at all?"  
  
"No," Harry replied.  
  
Snape pulled out his wand and held it up in front of Harry. He didn't even flinch, just blinked at Snape, completely trusting, which gave Snape a tiny twinge as he tapped Harry on the top of his head and spelled him unconscious.  
  
Cursing himself out loud for his lapse, Snape gathered the fallen form in his arms, alarmed by how light Potter turned out to be, and carried him into his rooms. He placed Harry on his bed and opened the bed drapes a little farther, then pulled the bedcover just up to Harry's bare midriff. For just a moment, he looked down at Potter's relaxed, sleeping face to assess how unconscious he was; the spell would not last long and the timing had to be perfect.  
  
Snape dashed back into his office and took Harry's robe and shirt from the back of the visitor's chair. He dropped them strategically on the bedroom floor near the front corner of the bed. With a long stride he was back in his office, leaving the door between the rooms open just the right amount.   
  
Snape resisted counting down.  
  
When rapid footsteps could be heard coming down the hall, Snape opened a drawer of his desk and pretended to be looking for something. The door to the office flew open and Draco Malfoy charged in. "Professor! Goyle just overheard two students, Gryffindors, talking about a--"  
  
"Malfoy, didn't anyone ever teach you to knock?" Snape interupted him in a sneering tone.  
  
Malfoy didn't hear him though. He stared dumbfounded into the next room.  
  
"Do you have a problem, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked with a diamond edge. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Potter rousing. _Timing is everything._  
  
"But, but . . ." Malfoy stuttered.  
  
Harry heard Draco Malfoy's voice and lifted his head. The two of them stared at each other across a wide space, with Harry fast becoming aware of his surroundings. Malfoy looked like he had just eaten a bitter snarkmelon. Harry's face went completely dismayed, and he let his head fall back with a groan. The fact that it landed on a pillow made his spine stiffen. The door between them closed with a thud, and Harry heard low voices in the other room speaking in harsh tones.  
  
The bed felt like it was swallowing Harry. _That was Snape's office, _Harry thought, _so this must be . . ._ Yes, that did indeed seem to verify Harry's worst fears. After a minute, the door opened again. Harry dared to look up as Snape stepped in.   
  
"Is Malfoy gone?" Harry asked. It was all he could think of to say. His brain wasn't being very useful at the moment.  
  
"Indeed, he has done his part," Snape stated calmly.  
  
Harry ran his fingers over his head and tugged on his own hair, hard. He started to sit up.  
  
"Stay there a moment," Snape said. "I am not finished with you."  
  
_Help,_ Harry thought. He stayed propped up on his elbows and watched his professor. Snape spelled the outer door closed, then the inner one. Harry's heart began thumping loudly as though it might explode any moment.  
  
"I am not going to harm you, Potter. I promise," Snape said, without any of his usual snarkiness. He put his wand away in his inside pocket and stood at the foot of the bed.  
  
One part of Harry calmed at that, but others just made up the difference. "You want Malfoy to think something is going on?" Harry asked, trying to piece this together.   
  
"I am counting on it," Snape stated.  
  
"What if he gossips it around?" Harry asked fearfully. Harry felt he'd have to leave school if that happened, at the very least.  
  
"I am counting on a little of that, but do not concern yourself too much. You probably noticed how angry he was. He has never hidden his desire to be in your precise position, so pride will hold him back to quite a degree."  
  
Harry gave him a disbelieving expression; he felt a little ill.  
  
"That is how Malfoys work, Snape went on. They are predators, through and through. It started his first year. I am almost certain Lucius put him up to it to start him young on currying favor."  
  
Harry took a breath, too aware now of his bare skin. "So what position am I in, sir?"  
  
"In the middle, Potter, I am afraid."  
  
Harry wished his heart would slow down so he could think straight.  
  
Snape continued levelly, "The Dark Lord has a plan now to corrupt you, and he has made it my task to do so. Malfoy's task, although he doesn't know it, is to back up my claims that I am working diligently at it."   
  
Harry fell back on the pillow. Insanely, it made him want to sleep, maybe to more easily pretend this was a bad dream.  
  
Snape stepped around to the side of the bed, saying in a factual and oddly soothing voice, "Since I have at my disposal any number of coercive potions, I cannot claim failure, and I have hesitated too long already. I have been claiming that Dumbledore is watching you too closely since the last incident.  
  
"Are you following this, Potter?" He was now leaning directly over Harry.  
  
"Yes," Harry answered. "Your bed is too comfortable," he explained.  
  
Snape scratched his forehead and sat on the edge of the bed. As the bed tilted, Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. He raised himself up on one elbow, a knee tucked under him in preparation for flight.   
  
At this proximity Snape could clearly see that Potter's heart rate and respiration were very high. "Try to stay calm, Potter. I will not harm you."  
  
"You keep saying that," Harry pointed out.  
  
"You persist in not believing it."  
  
Harry swallowed hard and looked at his professor. He returned Harry's look evenly, calmly. "You handed Ms. Granger over to me. All I am asking is that you now hand yourself over to me."  
  
Harry closed his eyes as he breathed, "That's a low one.  
  
"In case you haven't noticed, I rarely play fairly."  
  
"What if Dumbledore finds out?"  
  
Snape hesitated. "I hesitate to inform you, Potter, but . . ."  
  
"He already knows," Harry finished for him. He covered his glasses with his hand as though the world had suddenly gotten too bright. "He was behaving a little oddly, asking me how lessons were going. Ugh."  
  
"There are larger things at stake, as usual," Snape pointed out.  
  
Harry rubbed his eyes hard.  
  
"Potter, you were strapped to a tombstone while your blood was drawn for a spell to recreate the Dark Lord as whole, and you are worried about what I can do in three minutes that the headmaster will see during your next lesson."  
  
"Three minutes?"  
  
"I have to send imagery to him to prove I am doing his bidding. He trusts me less than Death Eaters like Lestrange because I do not open up to him as they do. For obvious reasons."  
  
"So Voldemort gets to see my defeat," Harry griped.  
  
"Potter, if I wanted to defeat you, it would be over already," Snape stated impatiently. "And I really wish you would not use that name. Around me, at least. Under these circumstances, certainly."  
  
Harry cringed but asked, "What would I have to do?"  
  
"Lie still. And most importantly, once I say 'now,' do not back down. It would go very badly indeed."  
  
Frustration wrinkled Harry's face.   
  
"Believe me, Potter, if I had come up with an alternative, we wouldn't be here."  
  
"I do believe that, having seen firsthand how much you hate my guts." Harry rubbed his eyes again, wishing he were anywhere else on the planet. He exhaled loudly as he considered things. He had handed Hermione over. He recalled that moment in the forest again when he trusted that there was only one way it could all work out so they could all keep fighting.   
  
"All right," Harry breathed out harshly and lay down again. He stared at the canopy above him. The drapes were a dark emerald velvet. He would almost certainly cringe every time he saw that color and texture after this. His heart, which had calmed, was now beating so fast that it didn't seem to be working properly anymore. His vision swam a little and, when Snape lifted his glasses off, he was certain his heart stuttered dangerously in his chest.  
  
Snape said, "Try to calm down a little. You should not seem quite so terrorized." He sounded calm and factual, which confused Harry, who gave him a pained expression. "Close your eyes if you have to," Snape suggested levelly.  
  
Harry did so. "Can I keep them closed?" he asked, holding them tightly closed.  
  
"Probably." Snape reached out and grazed Harry's eyebrow, making him jump. "Let's try that again," Snape said quietly. His voice had lost all of its nastiness and sounded almost silken. The transition was startling. Snape touched his eyebrow again and, this time, Harry lay still.  
  
Snape said, "I wish to get this over with as much, if not more, than you--so are you ready?"  
  
Harry's stomach flipped over twice, but he nodded against the pillow.  
  
"No going back, remember," Snape whispered. "Now."  
  
Harry lay still and rigid with his eyes closed, feeling like the cameras of live Muggle television had just turned on him. For a long moment, nothing moved. One part of Harry wanted to open his eyes, but other parts screamed at him to hide here in his enforced darkness. He felt Snape shift over him and the Potions master's touch his chest, stroking gently down his side. Harry gasped, then immediately cut himself off. It was an odd noise Harry'd made, almost sexual, which only alarmed him more. He took a deep breath and remained silent this time as the touch repeated.   
  
Snape shifted again and his robe fell over Harry as he leaned down next to his neck. At this Harry dared open his eyes, since it presumably couldn't be seen. Snape's stringy hair was in his face and his breath felt like fire against his throat. Both of Snape's hands were on him now, making Harry gasp again. Snape's touch was almost maddeningly light, which set off a cascade of confusion in him.   
  
Snape sat up suddenly and Harry realized too late that he still had his eyes open. Snape gave him a look that carried too many meanings. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and patted it. "It is all right now." The Potions master stood up and Harry went through some kind of post-stress panic. He rolled onto his side and curled up.  
  
"You are not planning to sleep there?" Snape asked in disbelief.  
  
"I need a moment," Harry said. Indeed, he was desperate to clear his mind in case Voldemort came trolling for the other side of that experience.  
  
"Suit yourself," Snape said and went into his office.   
  
Five minutes later, Harry decided that crashing in his own bed was the only sane thing to do. He grabbed his glasses from the side table, sat up, and retrieved his clothes from the floor. He put on his shirt and buttoned it quickly. Snape glanced over at him a moment. "How did my stuff get here?" Harry asked.  
  
"Just setting the stage for Mr. Malfoy. It is fortunate that you are not dating anyone. I would be compelled to make their life extra miserable, just for the show of it."  
  
Harry shook his head as he shrugged into his robe. "How I ever imagined I wasn't a pawn is beyond me," he said angrily.  
  
Snape stepped back into the room and leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. "Are you all right, Harry?" he asked.  
  
Harry's eyes snapped up at him upon hearing his first name. "Yeah," he said. "Fine." He stood up and straightened his robe. "Am I dismissed?" he asked in a tone that said he better be.  
  
"Of course."  
  
On his way through the office, Harry picked up his parchments and the two new books and stuffed them in his rucksack. He headed for the door, then stopped before charging through it. "Is the charm removed?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Harry still hesitated. "There are going to be Slytherins in the corridor," Harry commented.  
  
"Undoubtedly."  
  
Harry fought the urge to scream, now understanding how Hermione did so well with the howler. He reached for the door handle and didn't look back. Only a few eyes followed him down the corridor in shock; most simply ignored him. Harry breathed easier as he reached the upper floors.  
  
In the Gryffindor common room, everyone was still playing, basically in the same positions as when he'd left. "Hey, Harry," Ron said. He and Hermione were playing a dice game where your opponents tried to affect the outcome of the roll with various spells, often improving the roll unintentionally.  
  
"Hey," Harry replied. The reality of the room and the students wiped most of the last half hour out of Harry's immediate thoughts. He settled in with them and they started a new game tso they could include him.  
  
###############  
  
Harry was walking away from breakfast the next morning when Professor McGonagall called him over. Harry's heart started thumping hard as he considered that rumors may already have reached her. "Just Potter," she said to Ron and Hermione as they followed him. Harry's heart rate sped up even more. She directed him to her office and gestured for him to enter.   
  
Harry looked up at Dumbledore standing in the middle of the office, and relief swept through him.   
  
"Leave us, Minerva," Dumbledore intoned as McGonagall moved to close the door behind her. She shrugged, went back out and closed the door behind her.  
  
Dumbledore took a seat in the visitor's chair after first turning it around. He looked up at Harry. "How are you?" he asked gently.  
  
"Okay," Harry replied.  
  
"Just 'okay'?"  
  
Harry relented. "A little stunned."  
  
Dumbledore studied him closely. "Professor Snape did not want me to warn you, although I had strong reservations about that. Mostly because he was the one who would suffer the most if his deception failed, I let him do things his way." He paused to look at Harry again. "I just want to know if that was justified."  
  
Harry took a deep breath, his mind reviewing the events of yesterday evening with some annoyance, since he would rather have let them lie. "I didn't like what happened, sir, but. . . there didn't seem to be any other way."  
  
Dumbledore went on. "I spent a great deal of time considering alternatives. I would not allow him to potion you into submission; that seemed like the worst we could do to you. I also instructed him, if you resisted firmly to let it go and we would deal with the consequences. But the consequences did appear severe, enough so to see if you would cooperate.   
  
I am sorry for this, Harry. We keep insisting that you trust us without necessarily giving you good reason to."  
  
Harry relaxed. "It's okay, sir. I'm willing to do my part."  
  
Dumbledore frowned. "And on that topic, I insisted that it be me who asked you to continue the charade for a little longer."  
  
Harry's face fell as his eyes went wide. He looked away from Dumbledore and stared out the window. He whinged severely as his entire being rebelled at that notion.   
  
"I have to confess, Harry, that we do not know the eventual intent of this. And that does worry me."  
  
"Worries you in which direction?" Harry asked.  
  
"Both. I cannot see how this course leads Voldemort to any advantage. If this were last year I could see an intent to discredit you. But now, you are no longer a lone voice and we have gone out of our way to avoid making you a figurehead. I cannot see a plot to discredit you as being worth the time."  
  
Dumbledore waited while Harry thought. "Harry?" he finally prompted.  
  
Harry thought about Hermione and Crabbe. "All right, sir."  
  
"You amaze me, my dear boy," Dumbledore said and stood up. He patted Harry on the shoulder and invited him to exit with a sweep of his hand.  
  
##############  
  
Harry dreaded Potions the following day, so much so that he couldn't eat breakfast.  
  
"Not feeling well, Harry?" Ron asked. Inability to eat was Ron's idea of a tragedy.  
  
"I'm a little churny in the stomach," Harry admitted and pushed his plate away.  
  
He and Hermione made the long walk down to the dungeons. Harry tried desperately to control the flush that kept filling his face. He kept his head down as the lecture started until his cheeks felt like a normal temperature. With a bolstering of a little anger, Harry raised his eyes to Snape and waited for the other to look his way. He didn't have to wait long; Snape's eyes locked onto his for a moment, then slid on to another target smoothly.  
  
Harry saw Hermione taking note of what was said, so he hurried to recall what it was and write it down also. The real trouble started when Harry went up to get supplies. Draco stepped over to him and gave him a hard shove backward into the stool of a Ravenclaw. Harry regained his feet and stopped himself from launching at Malfoy's hateful face. The other students stopped in place and stared at the two of them. Malfoy's eye twitched a few times, then he looked up as Snape stepped over.  
  
"Potter, how can you play Quidditch if you are that clumsy?" the teacher asked with a sneer.  
  
Malfoy's gaze went wild at that. He clearly expected something different.  
  
Harry gave his professor a look and said, "It involves flying, sir, not walking. In case you hadn't noticed."  
  
"It is my understanding that you are currently working your way through a multi-week detention with your Head of House already. If you had parents to call, Potter, I would be doing that after class."  
  
Harry hunched over in shear fury at that but brought it to bear before it exploded out of him.  
  
"That's better," Snape said. He turned to his student. "Mr. Malfoy, to avoid your getting stepped on by Mr. Potter in the future, perhaps you should wait to get your supplies until he is back at his table."  
  
Malfoy's wild look didn't ebb. He backed off carefully, as though from a dangerous wild animal, and stood beside his bench to wait.   
  
Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he reached Hermione and his shared table. "He is so unfair," Hermione said quietly as they set things out in a useful order around them.  
  
"Life is unfair, Hermione."

* * *


	6. The Lesser Evil

Chapter 6 - The Lesser Evil  
  
The dreaded day arrived: Harry's Friday Legilimency session. He was starting to understand it when people said things about nervous breakdowns. Harry was willing to believe one was right around the corner for him. His insides melted, went rigid, then melted again everytime he looked ahead to that evening. At least his eye hadn't started twitching yet. He couldn't believe that some students were sitting around laughing, enjoying butterbeers, right this minute.  
  
Harry would have waited until right on the hour to knock, except some Slytherins had slowed to look at him standing before the door to Snape's office. He knocked rather than bear their scrutiny.  
  
"Come in, Potter," Snape's voice said sharply.  
  
Harry entered, trying to keep his hand from shaking as he released the door knob. Leaving the door open would be worse than shutting it. He shut it. Snape sat at his desk, watching him enter and take a seat. His eyes narrowed as he continued to observe Harry.  
  
"Do you want to postpone this session?" Snape asked finally in his most neutral tone. Harry shook his head. That would definitely not help. "Potter, the headmaster informed me that he told you the rules he laid down."   
  
Harry nodded again and took the visitor's chair. Snape went on, "All you have to do is tell me you wish to leave and you may leave."  
  
Harry, bolstered by some control being handed to him, sat up a little straighter. He heard something out in the hall and turned to look for shadows under the door. Instead he saw the string from an extendable ear snaking into the room. Harry held up his hand for Snape to stop and pointed at the floor.  
  
Snape stood and leaned over his desk. He saw the string and gave Harry a questioning look. Harry tugged his ear and pointed at the string. "Fred and George," he mouthed silently. Snape rolled his eyes then thought a moment.  
  
"You handled the Headmaster very well, Potter," Snape commented.  
  
Harry cast about quickly. "He likes me. That makes it easy."  
  
"He isn't going to like you much if he finds out what has been going on."  
  
"He won't believe it."  
  
"Probably true. Come here, Harry."  
  
Harry jumped in surprise. Snape was a master of tone of voice, and some voices Harry wasn't used to hearing, including that one. He stood up and walked around the desk only because he feet seemed willing to obey even if his brain wasn't.   
  
Snape held up one finger for him to hold his place a few feet away. Suddenly he bumped the first desk drawer with his hand, making it slam into place with a thud. Then he kissed the back of his own hand noisily for a long moment.   
  
Harry couldn't watch or he would break out laughing, especially when a stifled gasp could be heard from the other side of the office door.  
  
"Perhaps we should move to the next room?" Snape suggested.  
  
Harry, bolstered by amusement, opened the bedroom door and stepped inside. The lamps flared automatically. Snape closed the door, whipped out his wand, and spelled it many different ways.  
  
"A Imperturbable charm will stop it," Harry informed him.  
  
Snape added that one as well, then put his wand away. "Let's try a little experiment. See if you can discern who is in the hallway.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and imagined what the hallway looked like, but that didn't work. No, it worked by already knowing who, then reaching that person. Harry suspected Malfoy. He imagined Malfoy and reached very carefully outward after partitioning his own mind. Malfoy's rage struck him and he nearly fell over. Snape caught his arm and held him upright.   
  
"I think he has come unhinged," Harry said.  
  
Snape released him. "You mean Draco Malfoy? He has been like that since the end of last year. His father's arrest has been very hard on him. Mr. Malfoy is a very strict guardian, and I believe Draco is at a loss as to how to cope with his newfound freedom. More to the point, he had been looking to me more this term as a substitute, and you have taken that away form him. Snape paused then asked, Can you tell who else is there?"  
  
"I can't work it that way. I have to guess and then see what that person is doing."  
  
"That makes sense. Try Parkinson."  
  
Harry closed his eyes and imagined being her. He tried for almost two minutes before giving up. "I don't think I know her well enough."  
  
"Again, that makes sense. Well, Potter, at the risk of violating the school code, let us try a little bit more of this and consider it your lesson."  
  
They sat down in the room's two straightbacked chairs and Harry tried a few other members of Slytherin, then Snape suggested some of Harry's friends. Harry shook his head. "I want to warn them before I do that."  
  
"You don't give Slytherins the same consideration?" Snape prodded him.  
  
"That is the difference between friends and enemies, isn't it?" Harry commented dryly.  
  
Snape sat in silence, watching Harry a long while. Finally, he said, "How are you feeling, Potter?"  
  
Harry tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. "Awful. I haven't been able to eat all day, if that gives you any indication."  
  
"It is not my intent to torment you."  
  
"I know and that makes it worse," Harry said right back. "Intentional torment is something I could push back against."  
  
"You should go, Potter. Stop by the kitchens for a tray from the house elves and go up to your dormitory."  
  
"No," Harry said firmly. "I said I would see this through and I meant it." Harry's stomach complained at the notion of food. "You think they'd bring a tray down here?"  
  
"Shall I ply you with food, then?" Snape asked in an odd voice.  
  
"Please don't ruin eating for me," Harry snapped. "Sir."  
  
"I must say, Potter, you are nearly identical to your father, which annoys me no end. But you have a very different sense of humor, which almost makes your presence palatable."  
  
Harry considered that twisted compliment and resisted accepting it. "That crack you made, Professor, about my parents, wasn't called for," Harry reminded him in an angry voice.  
  
"I am in a different mode in the classroom than here, Potter. Not quite as careful."  
  
"Are you apologizing?" Harry asked.  
  
"Perhaps. But there is a reason for my continuing to be cruel to you in front of the school. It keeps any rumors at bay that may try to spread too far." Snape crossed his arms and shifted in his chair. "Anyway, I would think you would be over that by now."  
  
"Oh, like you're over things that happened just as long ago," Harry retorted sarcastically. "Sir."  
  
Snape flicked his fingernail in anger. "Point taken." He gave Harry a piercing look. "So if you are staying, let us get this over with, shall we."  
  
Now it felt like his Professor was being deliberately blunt. Harry's stomach dropped out of him but he stood up, then stalled by setting the chair neatly back against the wall. He was already shaking again by the time he approached the end of Snape's bed.  
  
Snape looked him up and down. "Anytime you wish to leave, Potter, you may do so, up to the starting point, of course."  
  
"I know that. I also know that you are trapping me with my pride every time you say it."  
  
"You are trapping yourself then," Snape observed.  
  
Harry jerked his robe over his head and started to reach for his shirt buttons.  
  
"Leave it on, perhaps." Snape gestured that Harry should lie down. He didn't want to tell Potter that the Dark Lord had found them very entertaining last time. It worried him enough for the both of them, he was certain.  
  
Harry laid back on top of the covers and stroked his hair back several times to calm himself down. "Let's go. Whenever," Harry breathed.  
  
Snape stretched out beside him, but not touching, and propped his head up on his hand. He looked Harry over with an almost bored expression. At Harry's look of annoyance, Snape said, "We have to wait for a chance--for an audience, you might say."  
  
Harry growled at that.   
  
"Say something funny, Potter in that bizarre sense of humor of yours," Snape finally said after a long pause.  
  
"You think it's bizarre?"  
  
"Since it clashes so with what I expect from you most of the time, yes."  
  
"Okay. Harry considered, then said, How about: why am I hungry because the least I could expect is a nice dinner before you got me into bed?"  
  
Snape looked levelly at him and gamely replied, "How about afterward? The Golden Candle in Hogsmeade is open late. It received three wands in this year's Broomguides."  
  
Harry laughed despite himself as he tried to picture that. "I'll stop by the kitchens, thanks."  
  
Snape's voice shifted into a much less usual one. Darker. Deeper. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Not strictly speaking, but ready enough," Harry said as his heart started to pound loudly in his ears.  
  
Snape took a deep breath and reached for the top button of Harry's shirt. "Now," he whispered in that voice that sounded like honeydukes chocolate melting.  
  
Harry swallowed at that image and turned his head to the side away from Snape, so he didn't have to close his eyes.   
  
Eventually, his shirt fell open. Harry wondered how he was ever going to feel like this could be normal if, and when, he managed to get someone to go snogging. He tried to pretend Snape was Cho, but that wasn't really possible. Snape shifted to lean over him and Harry met his eyes for an instant. He hoped his expression was at least vaguely in context.   
  
Snape lowered himself over Harry and again hot breath bathed Harry's neck; it felt as though electricity were being applied to his spine. He arched despite himself and met Snape's hands, which pressed him back down firmly as though to keep him in line.   
  
The slow exploration continued, and Harry realized with a stab of panic that this was dragging out longer than the last time. His overly-stimulated imagination fed him the notion that maybe Voldemort was asking for more. It was reinforced when Snape moved down to his chest, his breath alternately heating and chilling him.   
  
Snape stopped and let his forehead rest on Harry's breastbone. When he raised his head again he was shaking it. "He thinks I am being selfish," he said with an expression of dismay. "For cutting him off. Better than the alternative, I suppose." He sat up but still leaned over Harry.  
  
Harry exhaled in relief. "Can I get up then?"  
  
Snape sat straight and crossed his arms. Harry considered him closely for the first time that evening. He looked pensive although he also looked a little better than normal, as though he had washed his hair or something. The thought that Snape had dolled up a bit made Harry chuckle as he reached for his glasses. "Sorry, this is striking me as humorous for some reason," he explained.  
  
"Better than terrorized, Potter."  
  
"Yeah," Harry admitted. He rubbed his scar unconsciously. "Do you think this is working?"  
  
"Unfortunately, I know it is working."  
  
Harry looked sharply at him. "He wants more, doesn't he?"  
  
"Is your mind clear, Harry?" Snape asked him suddenly, almost suspiciously.  
  
"Yes. I'm just guessing." Harry picked up his shirt and put it back on, then stood and picked up his robe where he had dumped it.   
  
"Do you need anything?" Snape asked, moving to the door to unseal it. When Harry shook his head, Snape offered, "A potion for sleeping, perhaps?"  
  
Harry rubbed his neck. "Sure, that's probably a good idea."  
  
Snape stepped into his office and checked the floor before sealing the outer door with a few charms. He dug around in a cupboard near his desk and handed Harry a small bottle. "That is one dose," he said. "Why don't you take a seat, I want to try something else. As well, it is a little too soon for you to leave."  
  
Harry smoothed out his robe and sat down in the chair facing the desk. He felt numb, isolated from reality. He hadn't felt this way since he was ten and living with the Dursleys full time.   
  
Snape lowered himself into his own chair and sized Harry up. "I want to see how strong a Legilimens you are. I am going to blank my thoughts and I want you to try to reach me."  
  
Harry nodded and closed his eyes.  
  
Snape said, "I will tell you when to start." The Potions master composed his mind and eventually said, "Go."  
  
Harry imagined himself as Snape, which had gotten a lot easier in the last week. It took over a minute but he gasped when he found he was staring at himself sitting with his back to the dark wooden office door. Harry opened his eyes and the vision immediately dissolved.  
  
Snape shook his head slowly. "You are better at that than the Dark Lord."  
  
Harry frowned. "I know you better," he suggested.  
  
Snape was still shaking off his surprise. "Perhaps." He flicked his fingernails a few times as he looked at them. "Ask your close friends for their permission to practice on them. This is a skill that should not be wasted, and we have many things to try."  
  
###########  
  
"Boy, Malfoy really gives you looks now," Hermione whispered to Harry as they arrived at Potions. "It is getting worse."s  
  
"He sees me leaving my lessons and doesn't like his Head of House spending time with me, I think," Harry hedged.  
  
Malfoy tugged on the back of Harry's robe. Snape hadn't arrived yet, so Harry was on his own. "What do you want?" Harry asked darkly after spinning around challengingly.  
  
Malfoy leaned in close and said in a low voice, "I want to know why you are doing this? How you managed it?" He backed off and stood more cockily. "I told on you the first chance I got. Master looked very pleased.  
  
Harry tried to look stunned. He was stunned that Draco had such good access to Voldemort. "Can't imagine he'd care," Harry said dismissively.  
  
Malfoy laughed and backed off, then glared at Harry before chuckling darkly again.   
  
Snape entering the room put a stop to Malfoy's incursion into unofficial Gryffindor space. The blonde boy spun on his toe and marched to his own table, with Snape's eyes tracking him. Snape met Harry's gaze evenly for an instant before he started the day's lecture.  
  
When they started brewing and everyone started talking amongst their tablemates, Hermione whispered, "What was Malfoy on about? You sounded like you understood that."  
  
"I was guessing. I don't know what he thought was so funny."  
  
"He scares me now," Hermione commented.  
  
Harry didn't like the look of his potion halfway through brewing. "Drat," he muttered. "Hermione, what am I doing wrong here?"  
  
"This is an insect wing base, Harry. I think you have it too hot and are damaging the potion structure." She sounded like a teacher herself.  
  
Harry shook his head at her grasp of this and tapped his wand to cool it down.  
  
"Well, Potter, looks like another wasted day in potions for you," Snape commented dryly.  
  
Harry shot him a frustrated look. "Don't wand it away, Professor. I am still working on it," he insisted. Snape gave him a very dubious look and Harry really wanted to peek inside his head to see what would fix the potion. He looked away to read his notes again in order to distract himself from attempting it.  
  
"No help, Granger," Snape said snarkily to Hermione. She shook her head.  
  
"Tell me, Potter, are there any classes in which you do well, or is this the best you can manage?"  
  
Harry banked his anger. At least Snape hadn't dragged his parents into it. "No, sir, this is definitely my worst class." Lowering the temperature seemed to have helped the color and thickness of Harry's potion. He dropped in extra gnats' wings since they were the smallest and would break down quickest.  
  
"Hmmf," Snape huffed and moved on to the next table.  
  
On their way from Potions, Harry pulled his friend aside. "Hermione, I need to ask you something. For my Legilimency lessons, I need to have a target mind to work with. Would you mind terribly if I used yours?"  
  
Hermione gaped at him a moment. "All the time?" she asked.  
  
"No, no. Just during my lessons. I won't tell Snape anything that I see that you wouldn't want him to know, obviously. It is just that I have been using Malfoy and he is really deranged."  
  
"Is that maybe why he is deranged?" Hermione asked sharply, horrified.  
  
"He doesn't know it is happening and you might not either. You are learning how to block me out in DA so this would be a chance to practice."  
  
She didn't look very convinced, but she said, "All right, Harry. But only during lessons, okay?"  
  
"Of course," Harry insisted.  
  
They were walking now in the corridor leading to the fat lady. They stopped and let some others pass out of hearing. In a low voice, Hermione said, "I have a question for you, Harry, since we are on the topic of secrets. Since my 'memory charm,' which very few people know the truth about, I am seeing conspiracies everywhere. Is something going on with you and Professor Snape beyond your lessons? A few of the Slytherins are saying some things. . . ."  
  
Harry looked at her. He had no desire to lie to Hermione, of all people, but things were safer when fewer people knew and, frankly, he couldn't take her outpouring of horror and sympathy. "Malfoy is jealous of me spending that much time with his Head of House. I think that's where that rumor got started," was all Harry said.  
  
"So you have heard it."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "Malfoy has been on like you saw him in Potions for a while."  
  
She adjusted her bookbag and looked pained. "Harry, don't get into anything over your head, okay? Promise?"  
  
"I'll certainly try not to." He started walking to the Fat Lady to end the conversation and his friend followed, falling silent. Harry felt worse than he expected about not telling her the truth.


	7. Telling Secrets

Chapter 7 - Telling Secrets  
  
The weekend was warm. Hogsmeade was still off-limits to students so everyone was out on the lawn. Harry and Ron took up a bludger and played catch with it on their brooms. Harry was amazed at how out of shape he had gotten over the summer. Ron, who had played around on brooms all holiday, was flying better than he. Harry pushed himself hard to keep up appearances.   
  
Harry cajoled Ron out again on Sunday for the practice. He couldn't risk Ginny beating him out for Seeker if she decided against going for Chaser and was as good as Ron from a summer of playing in the yard at the Burrow.  
  
Sunshine and exercise left Harry feeling upbeat even as he made his way down to the dungeons for his first evening lesson of that week. The possibility that all this could seem routine startled him as he knocked on the door and was admitted immediately.  
  
"Have a seat, Potter," Snape said as he put some potions away.   
  
"The sleeping draught you gave me on Friday worked well," Harry commented as he took the visitor's chair.  
  
"Of course. I brewed it," Snape said cockily and gave Harry a look when he straightened up.   
  
"If that is how you troll for additional compliments, I can see why you don't get many. Sir," Harry said with a slight grin.  
  
Snape swept past the door and spelled it before returning to his desk and sitting back. "Satisfy my curiosity, Potter. In class the other day, did you access my thoughts without my knowledge? Right before you added more gnat wings."  
  
"No. Hermione had said that because it was an insect base that it couldn't get too hot and I thought maybe I had overcooked the proteins so I just added more. They were the smallest." Harry shrugged.  
  
"You are probably capable of understanding Potions if you tried," Snape said.  
  
"There hasn't been much reason to try," Harry said quietly.  
  
Snape frowned. "Let's move onto your lesson then."  
  
"I asked Hermione and she said it was okay. She has been hearing rumors, by the way."  
  
"Even if there were absolutely nothing going on. The mere fact of your evening visits would stimulate them. Tell me what Ms. Granger is doing right now." Harry closed his eyes. "Is this the first time you have tried this with her?"  
  
Harry nodded and concentrated. What would it feel like to be Hermione? Really smart and organized, Harry answered himself. And sure of myself. He saw her Transfiguration essay. "Object surfaces which are closed are harder to transform than open ones," Harry read off. He opened his eyes. "Huh, is that true?"  
  
"I believe so," Snape said and watched Harry closely.  
  
"She is working on her Transfiguration essay."  
  
"Did she notice you?"  
  
Harry closed his eyes again. Hermione continued scratching with her quill, uninterrupted. "No."  
  
"Potter, you are now the most dangerous wizard in this castle," Snape commented over his knitted fingers.  
  
"She is easy, I know her really well," Harry explained.  
  
"We shall have to try this in a controlled manner with a willing person whom you do not know well at the beginning." Snape stood up and paced once. "I have some suggested exercises, some of which you will object to. If you do, just say so." He looked at Harry for confirmation. "If you are willing, try to get Ms. Granger to do something subtle, such as misspell a word."  
  
Harry thought about that and decided it was harmless enough. He closed his eyes and watched out of Hermione's eyes again. Making her misspell a word was going to be more difficult than he thought. He first had to know what she was going to write next. Harry watched and waited. Snape didn't make a sound even when many minutes past.  
  
Harry decided that the easiest way to accomplish a misspelling was to watch for a word like 'the' and try to make her transpose the letters or add a letter. Harry delved a little deeper until he could feel her controlling her hand as she dipped it into the inkwell and scratched out a few words and dipped again. Harry grabbed hold lightly, jerking the quill in a straight line. Hermione picked up off the page, shook her hand, and continued writing. No, Harry thought, just forcing it was too blunt. He watched some more. She didn't actually write out T H E as she wrote, she wrote the word 'the' as a whole.   
  
He tried for a different word, one she had to spell out. "Optimum" was being scratched out. Harry chanted with her as she spelled and added an extra 'm' at the end. Hermione kept writing without noticing.   
  
Harry finally opened his eyes. "That was hard."  
  
"But you managed?"   
  
"Finally, yeah. It had to be on a word she had to spell out in her mind."  
  
"Potter, do me a favor. If you decide we are not on the same side, please do give me some warning."  
  
"You are joking, right, Professor?"  
  
"No, I am not. If you had this skill honed you could do enormous damage. For example, make Mr. Fudge write out a decree and sign it. Look in on any meeting you chose to, even secret closed ones. Do try to not abuse your power. It will attract dangerous attention."  
  
"I won't, sir," Harry insisted.  
  
"You seem calmer this evening," Snape said.  
  
"Until you pointed it out, yes," Harry said, his hands breaking out into a sweat. "Sir."  
  
"We may have an audience at any time," Snape said quietly.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "Great," he muttered unenthusiastically.  
  
Snape pulled on his bottom lip in thought for a long minute. He then stood and came around the desk. "I expected this to get easier," Snape commented.  
  
"It is a little," Harry commented.  
  
Snape's head came up and he gestured for Harry to follow him. "Come," he said as he opened the door to his rooms. "This is going to be the most difficult evening yet, I think."  
  
The sight of the dark green velvet raised Harry's heart-rate on its own. He bit his lip, pulled off his robe and tossed it over a nearby chair.  
  
"Not eager, are we?" Snape sneered lightly.  
  
"To get it over with, yes," Harry breathed. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind, just in case.  
  
"Shirt," Snape said. Harry took that off as well. For one cold second, Harry thought he was going to suggest more.   
  
Snape frowned to himself and moved to lay across the bed with his feet hanging off. He flipped off his shoes with his toes and shifted to the middle and waited.  
  
Harry sat down on the other side and kicked off his shoes and then grimaced. Without turning around, Harry said, "You need to do more, don't you?" He stretched his neck and shoulder nervously.  
  
"Yes," Snape's even voice replied.  
  
Harry turned around and rested on his arm as he leaned over toward Snape. "I'm trying to decide how much I want to know beforehand."  
  
"We are both victims in this, Potter."  
  
"I know that," Harry retorted. "I'm trying to find my way through this. Malfoy must be out of his mind."  
  
"Many people rather enjoy this activity. But in Malfoy's case it is about taking a piece of someone's power, rather than the direct pleasure of it."  
  
"What did he do that you knew what he wanted?" Harry asked.  
  
"Would it make you feel better to know?"  
  
"Yes, I am trying to get a grip on his attitude."  
  
"Do you wish to blackmail me?" Snape asked conversationally.  
  
"No."  
  
"Then Mr. Malfoy's attitude will not assist you."  
  
"What is V- the Dark Lord getting out of this?"  
  
Snape looked down at the dark green bedcover as he thought. "I do not know. I know he finds it rather entertaining, but he also finds orphanages burning down with children trapped inside entertaining. He lives to manipulate people and to destroy them."  
  
"And we are helping him along. Glad to know that," Harry said dryly.  
  
"We are trying to preserve a strategic advantage."  
  
"And your life."  
  
Snape bowed in acknowledgment. "In all probability."  
  
"Tell me about Malfoy anyway, sir."  
  
Snape pursed his lips as he composed a response. "Within a month of his arriving at Hogwarts, Mr. Malfoy came to my office one late evening. He complained about some minor issue and then began making insinuations. He used words and phrases that have two meanings to imply that he was available for my pleasure."  
  
"He was only eleven," Harry said, stunned. "Makes me glad I didn't have dinner tonight."  
  
"I perhaps should have thrown him out of my office with enough violence to make my point very clear, but his father is not a man to be on the bad side of. I was not certain that Lucius had not put Draco up to it. Also Quirrell and your reaction to him had me very concerned that Lucius's power was about to increase."  
  
"What did you do?" Harry asked with concern.  
  
"I politely told him that I did not need him. He eventually gave up after suggesting it several more times over the course of three years."  
  
"No wonder he went berserk. You set him up intentionally to see that; did he realize that?"  
  
"He is not smart enough to. And despite the stress it undoubtedly caused you, I rather enjoyed doing that," Snape reminisced.  
  
Harry laughed lightly.  
  
"You dislike him enough to laugh at that already?"  
  
"Oh, yes. His face was priceless."  
  
"Yours was not bad either," Snape pointed out.  
  
After a pause Snape frowned. "We have to move on."  
  
Harry shook his head and with a deep breath, lay back.  
  
"Roll over, I have an idea. You and Mr. Weasley were out flying rather a lot this weekend, correct?"  
  
Harry flipped onto his stomach. "I didn't know you got out of the dungeon that much."  
  
"The headmaster does let me out for meals," Snape commented. He reached out and rubbed his thumb along Harry's spine on the right side. At the point where Harry yelped in pain, Snape stopped and traced the muscle outward.   
  
"Wow, that hurts," Harry said, his voice muffled by the pillow.  
  
"You rather overdid it, I think. We will start with that."  
  
"With what?"  
  
Snape sighed in frustration. "With a massage, Potter."  
  
"You do those?" Harry asked in surprise.  
  
"Despite the ease with which you overcome my Occlumency, you do not know me very well," Snape stated. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Snape relaxed his hand at that firm answer. "If I do anything that you dislike, yell at me afterward."  
  
Harry fleetingly considered telling Snape that he wanted to leave now. He swallowed hard and nodded, his eyes squeezed shut.  
  
"Relax, Potter. I repeat again that I will not harm you." Snape said this last with his softest voice.   
  
What was it about that voice? Harry wondered as he waited for the signal. It's very tone seemed to promise something other than what the words themselves conveyed. He puzzled that until Snape said, "Now."  
  
Harry held his breath as Snape's warm fingers retraced the sides of his spine. The same muscle complained bitterly about the attention but he squelched his gasp this time. With a light touch over several minutes, Snape worked the taut muscles until they softened. Harry sighed in relief as his back finally relaxed after days of sharp pains.  
  
Snape moved on to quickly go over the rest of Harry's back, shoulders and upper arms which Harry only now realized were complaining as well. So far this had been the best evening, Harry had to admit. Snape's fingers worked their way down his back, kneading much harder now. Harry heard himself groan despite his effort otherwise.  
  
As Snape's hands encountered his belt, they reached around under Harry and unhooked his trousers. Harry just barely held back from squawking at that. He instead gnashed his teeth together and planned out exactly what he was going to be yelling later. Hard kneading fingers moved down over his butt bone. Damn, that felt nice too, Harry thought, angry at himself for enjoying any of this.  
  
Gentle, but firm, hands rolled him over. Harry held his eyes closed for a moment before he dared open them. Snape had his shirt off and was skirting both of them under the bedcover. Harry felt much better with the covers even though he was sharing them.  
  
Snape shifted to lean over Harry, almost on top of him. When he bent over this time, he actually did nuzzle Harry's neck making him fairly jump. 'Harm' is a relative thing, Harry thought as Snape's hands grasped his ribcage and stroked his body. Something seemed to be happening to Harry: he felt completely overheated and his flesh felt like clay as though it could be molded by the hands on him.  
  
Harry grasped the body above him in response to the undefined need writhing in him. Snape grabbed his hands and pressed them to the bed and held them there. "You may touch me when I give you permission to. Only then," Snape said firmly, suggestive that Harry might have violated this rule previously.  
  
When Snape bent to his neck again, Harry whimpered faintly. Fear was coursing through him now, leaving his skin intolerably chilled in the dank dungeon air. He didn't fear Snape but this thing that seemed to have awakened inside himself. Eyes clenched shut, Harry resisted the fierce desire to project the command to stop into Snape's head. Voldemort was present there somehow and Harry feared encountering that more than he feared anything else in the world.  
  
Harry's chest heaved as Snape's mouth moved down over it. Desperation was gripping him now and if it didn't end soon he wasn't going to make it; he was going to scream at any moment. Snape's hair tickled his abdomen as his nibbling moved lower still. Harry's first thought is Voldemort won't let Snape stop. His second was that maybe Harry didn't want him to. His body was reflecting his need, especially his crotch, and he was now very grateful for the heavy bedcover.  
  
Snape's fingers gripped him painfully a moment before he froze. After long breaths, he raised his head. Harry lay with his eyes still clenched closed, his head angled away.  
  
"Potter," Snape said. "Say something."  
  
"I'm sorry," Harry said. It was the truth, he was very sorry this was happening to him. "Can you leave me alone for a little while?" Harry asked without opening his eyes.  
  
"No. We will talk about it right now."  
  
"Talk?!" Harry managed in shock.  
  
Snape grabbed Harry's arm. "Potter, open your eyes and look at me."  
  
Harry obeyed with a pained expression. Snape reclined ninety degrees to Harry with his sparsely-haired chest bared. He looked better than Harry would have expected, a thought that didn't improve his mood. He tried to look away. Snape squeezed his arm. "No, keep looking at me," he commanded. Harry obeyed. "Don't you want to know what just happened?"  
  
"I know what just happened," Harry snapped.  
  
"Really? Are you certain?"  
  
Harry rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "I really don't want to talk about this."  
  
"I am not giving you any choice," Snape said firmly. "You were harmed this time and the best I can do now is limit the damage. So I am going to tell you what happened." At Harry's furrowed brow, Snape asked, "How many times in your life have the adults that you counted on abandoned you?"  
  
"What?" Harry asked loudly. He frowned deeply. "You count dying?"  
  
"Yes, of course," Snape replied matter-of-factly.  
  
"You want an actual number of times?"  
  
"No, I just want you to think about that."  
  
Harry jerked his arm free and crossed both of them. "That is a happy thing to think about," he commented.  
  
"My intent is not to cheer you up, but to explain," Snape said in a hard tone. "Your lack of reliable, affectionate guardianship leaves you exceptionally vulnerable to what is happening here."  
  
"I don't see the connection," Harry muttered stiffly.  
  
Snape studied his own fingertips a moment in thought. "Potter, imagine, most children grow up with one or even two adults for whom they are the single most important thing in the world." Harry looked away with an angry expression and Snape continued, "From whom they get everything they need if not everything they want. Even sufficient attention and affection." Snape paused. "You are unusually vulnerable to any adult who gives you anything remotely like that."  
  
Harry gave him a very dubious look.  
  
"You do not have to believe me--just think about it. Simply realize that you are behaving normally. Self-loathing is not justified."  
  
Harry looked away again with another doubtful expression. "It's getting late," Harry pointed out. He wanted to leave.  
  
"We aren't finished," Snape said levelly.  
  
"Okay, so, say you are right. What I am supposed to do about this?"  
  
"Be aware of it. Every vulnerability you have gives your enemies an opening from which to attack you. The Dark Lord would not pass it over, for example."  
  
Harry sat up and put his head in his hands and cringed again as he thought about what happened.   
  
Snape's repeated, "You are merely responding normally to affection, Potter."  
  
Harry didn't remove his hands from his face. "Yeah, but I hate your guts so how does that work?"  
  
"The human body and the human mind are not in sync at your age, at all," Snape replied after a pause.  
  
Harry glanced at the time again. "This is getting complicated, Professor. I am going to need an excuse."  
  
"All right." Snape stood up in one smooth motion.  
  
Harry dressed rapidly and flew out of the room. There was no one remaining in the dungeon corridor, nor did he encounter anyone until he reached the hallway leading to the Fat Lady.  
  
"Potter, you are late," McGonagall snapped at him. "Where have you been?"  
  
Harry froze and thought desperately for an excuse. "I was in the Library, looking up something for Hermione." He patted his heavy backpack. "It is really slow for me since she always does it."  
  
"All right, but don't let it happen again." She held the portrait open for him and closed it behind him.  
  
"Harry you are really late," Hermione said as Harry came in. "What have you been doing?"  
  
"Pull out your Transfiguration essay and I'll show you."  
  
Ron looked up from his writing. "You did that already?" he asked Hermione in distress.  
  
She looked at Harry oddly, then pulled out her parchment. Harry picked a chocolate frog out of the basket on the table and bit into it as he scanned her essay quickly. He pointed out her misspelling and waggled his eyebrows.  
  
Hermione's eyes went wide. She stood up. "Excuse us Ron. I need to talk to Harry a minute." Ron waved them away without looking up. She glanced around and saw that all of Harry's roommates were in the commons room. "Your dormitory," she said.  
  
Once up the stairs and inside, Hermione closed the door. She still had her essay in her hand. "Are you saying you caused me to misspell this word?" she asked.   
  
Harry couldn't read whether she was impressed or frightened. Maybe both. He nodded.  
  
"Wow, Harry," she still sounded more stunned than anything. "Snape taught you that?"  
  
"More like, suggested I try it. He doesn't know remote Legilimency." Harry reached into his bag and pulled a large, old book out of his bag. "But this woman, Milliforth, she writes about having something similar." He flipped it open to a marked page. "She could do some other things too, like teach people the foxtrot in under five minutes." Harry pointed to that section.  
  
"Kind of a silly thing to do," Hermione commented doubtfully.   
  
"That isn't the point. It is a difficult thing to teach. When I saw that I thought of the DA and how easy it was to teach people things. Even things I know it took longer for me to learn."  
  
Hermione looked at the page again and then at Harry. "You think you have this teaching skill too?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Just thought it was interesting."  
  
"Harry, be very careful. Please don't do anything stupid with this Legilimens skill of yours."  
  
"Snape has already been over that," Harry insisted.  
  
##########  
  
At lunch the next day, they talked about how the sunshine was holding out. "We have a break, let's go outside," Hermione said. "Harry, you need to get out, mingle with people. You have been in detention just all of the time."  
  
"You are saying I should ask someone out for a walk in the Rose Garden or something?" he teased.  
  
"Uh, if you have someone in mind," she answered carefully.  
  
Harry looked to his left. "Ginny, want to go for a walk after lunch?"  
  
Ginny craned her neck and leaned forward to look at him over the plates of the students between them. "Sure, Harry."  
  
Ron whispered to Hermione, "Isn't she going out with Dean?"  
  
"Not since school restarted, I don't think." She checked that Ginny wasn't looking. "They disagreed about something when they got back after summer."  
  
Harry had forgotten about Dean. He intentionally didn't look up at his dormitory mate as he gulped down the dregs of his pumpkin soup.  
  
Ginny followed Harry out in a crowd of students. He took her hand and led her around to the back of the castle. It was less landscaped here with fewer trees. Harry espied the two tree swings and headed that way, Ginny in tow.  
  
"Harry only first years use those!" she said.  
  
"I like this spot," he said, sitting on a swing. He liked that he could see that there wasn't anyone close by. He patted his lap and with a laugh she accepted the invitation. He wrapped an arm around her as though it were the most natural thing in the world. She smiled at him. "Hold onto the ropes," Harry commanded and leaned back to get them moving. Their motion was unstable and Ginny giggled as they rocked precipitously. Harry leaned forward and then back again and they were finally moving decently.  
  
"Thanks for coming outside with me; I really need to talk to someone," Harry said.  
  
"You can't talk to Ron and Hermione?" she asked.  
  
"Not about this. I'm not supposed to talk to anyone, I am pretty sure. But I trust you completely."  
  
"Harry, you can tell me anything. You saved my life. I still feel ashamed about what happened."  
  
They got the hang of balancing and Harry leaned back harder. "Don't Ginny. It isn't worth it. If I tell you what has been happening to me, you will feel much better, I expect." Harry glanced over at various students who were walking around this part of the yard. They were all near the castle and well out of earshot.  
  
"Harry, I'd do anything for you. Listening is easy," she prompted.  
  
He let the swing coast and tightened his arm around her. "I have been taking Legilimency lessons with Snape."  
  
"Isn't that mind reading? You can read minds?" Ginny asked, stunned. At Harry's nod, she said, "Read mine."  
  
"Right now?"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Harry closed his eyes. She was very easy since their sense of motion was perfectly matched. "You are worried that Dean will think you are only trying to make him jealous."  
  
"Harry! Sorry, I shouldn't have doubted you."  
  
In a slightly hurt voice Harry said, "I won't do it again."  
  
"I didn't mean it that way," Ginny insisted. "I interrupted, go on."  
  
"So I have been down in the dungeons two evenings a week. And last week, well, things got really complicated." Harry closed his eyes to clear his mind. Stress piled up against his thoughts for a moment. It was really just last week, really. "Promise not to tell?"  
  
"Harry! I promise, sheesh."  
  
"So last week, I am reading about Legilimency with Snape and I had this nasty cut from Pansy's ring which wasn't healing. I showed it to Snape and he is really nice about it, for him anyway. Gets out all of these potions and a thickener to make it time-release and some plasters even."  
  
"I have to tell you Harry, I don't think I'd let him touch me if I were dying of poison."  
  
"Yeah, you are going to hate this story then. By the end of it, because I have a second cut on my shoulder, I have my shirt off and the git knocks me out cold."  
  
"What! Harry are you serious?" Her shock made him feel much better. It was a nasty thing for Snape to do and he'd been forced to forgive him for it, if not at least overlook it.  
  
"Yeah, one moment he is asking me how I feel, in case the poison has spread and the next, he taps me on the head with his wand." At her look, he said. "Wait, it gets better." They had slowed to nearly a stop. Harry rocked them a little with toes pointed to the ground. "I wake up . . . on his bed. . ."  
  
Ginny dropped her head on Harry's shoulder in utter shock. "Wait," Harry said, "it gets better yet." Ginny whimpered sympathetically. "Apparently Snape has lured Draco Malfoy to his office to see this."  
  
"His office?"  
  
"Yes, Snape's rooms are behind that door on the left in his office. The other one is storage."  
  
Ginny rocked her head back and forth. "I didn't need to know that, really."  
  
"Snape has actually gone to the trouble of, uh, dropping my robe and shirt, actually taking them from the chair in the office and dropping them near the bed. He also has the bedcover pulled up so it looks like I'm buck naked, even though I wasn't."  
  
"Harry, Harry," Ginny murmured painfully.   
  
"Oh, it gets better. Though I have to admit Draco looked pretty pissed off, and that offset it a bit." Knots in Harry's chest were unwinding as he spoke.  
  
"So the reason for this was?"  
  
"Voldemort ordered Snape to corrupt me and so Draco would see that and presumably report that to his master. Which he essentially told me he did during Potions the other day. Then he laughed hysterically. He really has lost it."  
  
"Draco has lost it? Harry, Snape abducts you to his room and you are complaining about Draco?"  
  
"I didn't get to the part where he locks me in, did I?" Harry asked, starting to enjoy the utter horror this simple story was imparting, on someone who had experienced what Ginny had.  
  
"No," Ginny squeaked.  
  
"So he spells the doors and then tells me about this plan of Voldemort's and since he is spying for the Order, well we really can't lose that, uh, strategic advantage. . ."  
  
"Harry, he was just saying that," Ginny said suspiciously.  
  
"No, this thing was a joint decision between Snape and Dumbledore. Dumbledore and I had a long talk about it the next morning."  
  
Ginny just stared at him in dismay.  
  
"That isn't even the part I need to get off my chest," Harry pointed out with a shake of his head. Ginny's eyes got wider. Harry continued, "It is just supposed to be an illusion for Voldemort, this . . . " he hesitated.  
  
"Deflowering?"  
  
"Thanks," Harry said sarcastically, "nice word that." He watched as Ron and Hermione pretended not to watch him and Ginny from where they leaned against the castle wall.  
  
Ginny shrugged, unapologetic.  
  
"So, Voldemort insists on watching some of this. He is a Legilimens too, but Snape blocks him out most of the time. But he has to prove he is working on me so we have to set up a little show."  
  
"Harry," she said pleadingly. "That is too much. How can they ask that of you?"  
  
"As Snape pointed out, in his usual crass manner, this isn't as bad as being strapped to a tombstone and having my blood drawn for a ceremony to give Voldemort a new body." Harry propelled the swing a little. In a low, flat, voice he said, "They took Sirius away from me. They took my parents. I am up to the point where I'll do just about anything to fight them."  
  
"You have to have some limits, Harry," Ginny warned him.  
  
"When they start having them, so will I," Harry quipped. He leaned back again to push them higher. "I feel much better. I hope that doesn't give you nightmares or anything." He had wanted to tell her everything, even about this thing awakened inside him, but he decided that maybe he didn't want to after all. Having her nearby like this made him feel joyous and he couldn't risk losing that.  
  
She regrabbed the ropes and leaned with him. "Oh, no. I'm sure it won't," she said sarcastically.  
  
"So, how has your year been going?" Harry asked conversationally.  
  
"Dean dumped me as soon as we got back to school after writing me all summer. That was annoying. Classes are okay but I am already worried about OWLS."  
  
"They lay that on all year. Get used to it."  
  
Ginny looked around to make sure no one was close by. "Harry, uh, can we go out. . . more?"  
  
Harry stopped the swing with a jerk by planting his feet. "Oh shit!" he breathed.  
"You still have Potions."  
  
"Yes, Harry it is required for Fifth Years," she said as though talking to a child.  
  
"Oh, Ginny, this could be bad."  
  
"You don't want to go out with me?"  
  
"No, I like you a lot and I'd love to go out with you," Harry replied absentmindedly, his gaze off on the distant mountains.  
  
"Cheers, Harry. I like you a lot too."  
  
"You are really going to have to. You are not going to like the next few days." Harry wrapped another arm around her and pulled her tight almost to comfort himself. "You've just become part of the show."

* * *

**Notes:** I know what all you Harry/Ginny pairing dislikers are thinking... but really, next chapter you might like because of that (snape must mercilesssly torment her in class) and chapter 10 has a most delicious harry/snape scene. Around the second half of chapter 11, you should stop reading, though. 11 will be the last chapter anyway. 


	8. New Battle Lines

Chapter 8 - New Battle Lines  
  
As Ginny filed into Potions the next afternoon, Harry's whispered words from lunch came back to her. "He really isn't quite as nasty as he makes himself out during class. Just keep that in mind if you get intimidated." Most of the Slytherins ignored her and the rest of the Gryffindors. A few, Rhapsody Ballistrade and Gyneth Murgetroyde grinned sadistically at her as they passed close in the doorway.   
  
By the end of the lecture, during which Snape essentially ignored her, she started to relax and returned to her earlier assumption: that Harry was exaggerating.  
  
"Collect your ingredients now. And I feel compelled to point out that the Radiant Draught has been on the OWL every year it has been offered, so if you cannot manage this potion, do not bother showing up for your Potions OWL and embarrassing the school farther."  
  
Ginny felt pretty good about this potion as she poured rainwater into her cauldron and started it heating. She added murtlap and skullcap and stirred like the instructions said. She turned to the board, ignoring the suddenly whispering Slytherins behind her. When she turned back to the potion it had turned pink. Staring at it dumbly didn't improve its color.  
  
"What did you do?" her friend Nan asked from the other side of the table.  
  
"I don't know. I'm starting over." She banished the contents of her cauldron and started again. Determined to not look away this time long enough for anything to happen, she went through the first steps. It looked better this time. She stirred with one of the long silver rods provided and suddenly realized that it seemed to have dissolved into her potion, which now looked blue-grey.  
  
Ginny spun around and glared at her professor. Snape stood with his arms on his hips beside a table of snickering Slytherins. He looked as though he were just waiting for her to look his way.  
  
"Problem, Ms. Weasley?"  
  
Ginny stared him down and then snapped, "No, sir," and turned back to her table.  
  
"Five points from Gryffindor for that tone, Weasley," Snape's voice said.  
  
Livid now, Ginny picked up a wooden stirrer and looked down at her potion.   
  
"What is wrong with you today?" Nan asked. "Don't make trouble."  
  
"I'm not," Ginny said to her through clenched teeth. "It's Snape," she whispered.  
  
"What? Making your potion go bad from all the way over there? You are losing it, girl. Why the heck would he do that?"  
  
"For reasons I'm not going into," Ginny breathed. Silver, it could be isolated. She thought a moment. "Watch my potion that it doesn't boil over," she said to Nan.  
  
"What are you . . .?" Nan started then tried to grab Ginny as she spun around to march over to Snape.   
  
"Professor Snape, sir?" Ginny prompted in her most polite voice. Snape crossed his arms as he turned to her and stared down at her along his nose. "Can I get some moon nitrates for my potion?"  
  
He looked at her a split second then pointed his wand over his shoulder. A cabinet behind him popped open. She stepped over to it.  
  
"Try not to be too clumsy while you are in there, Ms. Weasley. There are a few rather dangerous compounds," Snape drawled.  
  
It took a while to find what she needed. Nan gave her a look when she got back to their table. Ginny ignored her and, adding a droplet at a time, managed to bind all of the silver out of her potion. She fished out the resulting silver beads from the bottom of her cauldron so they didn't make so much noise. _Round one to Ginny_, she cheered to herself and hurried to move ahead in the instructions.  
  
She was just feeling like she might make it when the potion suddenly turned creamy white, right before her eyes. It was really too late to start again and it was admitting defeat anyway. She didn't turn around this time, just thought frantically about what might be causing it.  
  
Snape passed their table right then. He peered very dubiously into Ginny's cauldron. "Ms. Weasley, this is really not a difficult potion to brew," he sneered.  
  
Ginny squelched all of the nasty remarks she wanted to make back and said in a twistedly sweet voice. "I am still working on it, Professor."  
  
"Looks like you are done to me," Nan commented.  
  
Ginny gave her a scathing look and Nan put her head down and ignored her. Snape moved on with a slow stride. _White, what would be white?_ Ginny wondered. Snape couldn't have added anything from across the room, could he? It must be a precipitate. She fired up the burner to high and stirred rapidly. The white disappeared but the faint orange the willow buds had imparted to the potion turned to burnt brown. She added a few more petals after bringing the heat back down and then stared at it. It was probably right now, although she wouldn't have drank it.  
  
Nan bottled her own potion and Ginny noticed that most everyone was moving up to the front with theirs as well. Ginny stared at her tea-like potion and then up at Nan's barely tinted orange one. The Slytherins were snickering again. In a fit of anger, Ginny wanded her potion away.  
  
"Should have given up sooner," Nan said sympathetically.  
  
Ginny held back her retort to her friend and put her stuff away back on the supply table. The room was emptying out. _. . . not as nasty as he makes himself out . . ._ played through her mind. "Nan, stay with me a minute, I want to ask Professor something," she whispered.  
  
Nan stared at her as though she were nuts. Ginny put away her books to get ready to go and slung it over her shoulder. Nan came around and pulled on Ginny's shoulder. The room only had a few stragglers now.  
  
Ginny shook Nan's hand off. "Professor, can I ask you what I did wrong on my potion?" she asked.  
  
Snape sat at the desk with the class' potions lined up in front of him and the grade book out. "If you truly wish to," he said in a dangerous tone, as though she had asked if she could drink poison.  
  
Nan grabbed Ginny's arm and tugged. "Let's just go Ginny," she said a little frantically. The door boomed closed. They were the only ones left in the room.   
  
Ginny spun on her friend. "If you are scared, just leave," Ginny snapped. Not sure why Nan was setting her off so much, or maybe it was just the lack of loyalty. With a huff, Nan left. The door boomed closed again.  
  
Ginny faced Snape at his desk. He had one brow raised and he considered her closely as though she were an interesting specimen floating in preservative. She frowned. "You are very cruel, sir," she commented in defeat.  
  
Both of his brows went up. "We all must play our roles in this, Ms. Weasley." He picked up the first bottle in front of him and held it to the light before making a mark in the grade book. "What was the white precipitate?" Snape asked her evenly.  
  
"Trillium Salt or something," Ginny guessed.  
  
Snape graded another one. "Your potion was fine at the end. Why did you banish it?" he asked, his voice now conversational.  
  
Ginny frowned. "It was brown from the heat. Carbonized. I didn't want to have to carry it past the Slytherins."  
  
"The carbon was harmless," Snape said, working his way down the list. "How is it that your parents reserved all of the Weasley pride for their last child?" Snape went on.  
  
Ginny scowled at him but couldn't find a retort. She had to privately admit to years of public embarrassment from her older siblings. Instead, she waited silently. Snape moved the last potion bottle to the other side of the desk. "Come here," he beckoned her to the other side of the desk.  
  
_Not as nasty. . ._ Ginny reminded herself and walked around in time to see Snape put an 'E' beside her name, for exceeds expectations. He closed the ledger-like book with a thump, when he was certain she had noted it.  
  
"You have class, do you not?" he asked, still in a conversational tone.  
  
Ginny shook herself and nodded, then adjusted her bag on her shoulder and headed for the door. At the door, Snape's voice stopped her. "Ms. Weasley, it would be good if you would appear upset as you depart. It keeps things much more straightforward."  
  
She glanced back at him. He was watching her closely still as he rubbed the tips of the fingers of his left hand together. _How does Harry put up with this?_ she wondered. She nodded and composed herself for a good exit.   
  
Nan still waited for her in the hallway and a group of Slytherins loitered nearby. "He is so unfair," Ginny breathed harshly to her friend when the door swung closed behind her. She ran off a few more complaints in almost feigned anger as they went up the steps to the Entrance Hall. After all, this was an easy roll to play.  
  
During his Friday Legilimency lesson Harry thought Snape seemed distracted. Ginny had given Harry permission to peek at her mind during his lessons too, so Harry was switching between his two friends. He was behind on his sleep though and wanting to stop. He had just finished an exercise where he took over a conversation for Hermione, with her cooperation, as she sat in a group in the Gryffindor commons room. Harry tried not to yawn as he waited for another instruction from his teacher.  
  
Snape rubbed his forehead as though he had a headache. "I am certain you would rather be with your friends, Potter, celebrating the last night of your detention."  
  
"Yes," Harry admitted. He was more anxious tonight that he had been yet, since he didn't know how he was going to suppress his reactions. He felt like his insides were a mangled knot and it didn't loosen as he stood and picked up his books. "I'll just go then, sir," Harry said. At Snape's casual gesture toward the door, Harry left, suppressing his concerns about what would happen to Snape if Voldemort decided he was failing, or worse, disobeying.  
  
Harry celebrated Friday with his friends until McGonagall came up and forced them to close it down.   
  
Once in bed with the room finally quiet, Harry didn't fall asleep immediately as he expected to. He lay in a exhausted haze, careful to keep his mind free of anything disturbing enough to bring his guard down. It made it hard to face what was bothering him since facing it would mean letting himself feel whatever it was.  
  
Thinking about his afternoon with Ginny made Harry smile into the darkness. In the end it was so easy to touch someone who liked you. Ginny hadn't minded at all, in fact probably the opposite.  
  
While he was feeling good enough to, Harry reviewed what had happened with Snape. It made him cringe still just as much as before. He huffed out loud and rolled over suddenly, desperate to succumb to sleep and wishing he had another dose of that potion.  
  
The weekend passed in a blur. He and Ginny found more time to talk away from the others, which became more difficult as Ron seemed to be everywhere all of a sudden. They talked about small things finally, which was awkward after starting out with the big ones the other day.  
  
Harry wished the weekend wouldn't end but his wishes were in vain as classes and eventually his evening lesson came around again.  
  
Harry cleared his mind and walked down a mercifully empty dungeon corridor. Snape had not managed to be quite his usual nasty self earlier in the day during class. Harry didn't know whether to worry about that or not.  
  
"Come in, Potter."  
  
After Harry closed the door, Snape stood up to spell it before returning to his desk. Snape sat down and considered Harry's translation of Milliforth for a long minute.  
  
Harry was now starting to worry. What if Voldemort had gotten angry at the delay? Harry wondered. "Are you all right, sir?" he asked carefully.  
  
Snape shifted his gaze to him over the parchment. "Yes. Why do you ask?" he answered evenly.  
  
"You aren't your usual vitriolic, vindictive self, sir."  
  
Snape lowered his eyelids. "So you own a dictionary, Potter."   
  
"That's more like it," Harry quipped and then slouched in his chair. He really had no energy for lessons today. "Not to sound eager under any circumstances, but can we skip the lesson and get on with it so I can go up to bed."  
  
Snape looked at him in silence.  
  
"I could have used that potion last night," Harry commented. _And the night before. "_Can I get a week's supply?" Harry asked, only half joking._  
  
_"Only if you wish to never sleep normally again without it," Snape stated. "I can give you something different, less invasive." He stared at Harry some more. "Let's just try one thing. What is Malfoy Senior doing right now?"  
  
Harry woke up at that and went thoughtful. What would Lucius Malfoy feel like right now? "There are no longer Dementors at Azkaban, right?" Harry asked, trying to think about the wizard prison without them.  
  
"No. Why do you ask?" Snape asked curiously.  
  
"I need to know something about the person, I think. Like what they are feeling emotionally or physically if I don't know them well. Or maybe even if I do." Harry's brow furrowed as he thought about it. "Maybe I do need to know that always." He fell silent and tried to imagine what it would be like to be in prison. To be Draco's father, to be Voldemort's Lieutenant. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back and drifted a little. He sat that way for a long time. Snape didn't disturb him at all, which Harry found a little flattering, frankly.  
  
Harry had it then. "He wants to get a message out. He is trying to figure out which guards have weaknesses he can exploit." Harry shook his head. "That is all I get."  
  
"Do you know what the message is?"  
  
"No. He wasn't thinking about the content, just the urgency." Harry grinned, to Snape's bemusement. "He also wishes the prison laundry were a little easier on his expensive robes." Harry laughed.  
  
Snape rubbed his fingers over his upper lip. "You are such a tempting tool, Potter."  
  
"I am a very limited, sir."  
  
Snape shook his head. "Your limitations are minor compared to your power. You could always be set up to meet someone one wished to spy upon."  
  
"You think it's wasted on me?" Harry asked.  
  
Snape froze. "You are reading my thoughts?" he asked.  
  
"No, just guessing. I won't do that unless you request it, Professor."  
  
Snape rubbed his thumb over his nails as he looked at Harry. "So I do not fall under the blanket Slytherin enemy policy."  
  
Harry sounded confused as he said, "No, sir."  
  
Snape returned to looking at his fingertips and remained silent.  
  
Harry began to sense that Snape was going to put him off again. This made his heart rate go up in concern. He stood up and stepped around to the side of the desk. Definitely something strange was going on. Snape didn't look up at him as he moved.  
  
"Sir?" Harry prompted, scowling slightly.  
  
After a long pause, Snape stood up and considered Harry with intensity. He stepped around and looked directly down at Harry who resisted seeing what was going on behind those black eyes.   
  
"Now," Snape whispered.  
  
Harry held his breath and tried quickly to neutralize his expression. His heart rate jumped as Snape's hand reached up and brushed the side of his face softly. Uncertainty pounded at him, made him close his eyes. He held still through another brush across his hair. Both of Snape's hands, cool to the touch, grasped his neck and in the next instant he was being kissed. Harry made the mistake of gasping which had the unfortunate side effect of opening his mouth more.   
  
Harry was being consumed, devoured, then just as suddenly, there was nothing. He was released.  
  
He opened his eyes and gaped at his professor, bent over his desk, leaning heavily on his hands. Harry didn't know if they were clear so he didn't move. Snape closed his eyes and pulled at his hair with one hand in what looked like a gesture of self-disgust.   
  
"He is laughing at me," Snape stated quietly.  
  
Harry released a long-held breath in relief that they were alone again and wondered what had happened.  
  
"Get out," Snape said harshly.  
  
Disobeying, Harry stayed put. "Sir? Are you all right?" he asked with a tone of morbid fascination rather than concern.  
  
"He was laughing at me," Snape repeated, his head still bowed.  
  
"Yeah, and he has that great laugh too," Harry commented dryly.  
  
Snape jerked around and grabbed the front of Harry's robes, white hot anger filled his eyes.  
  
Harry cut him off. "Hey, you don't hear that laugh while he's killing your mum," he pointed out, angry as well and trying with his hands to pry Snape's off his robe.   
  
Snape released him with a little shove away from him and leaned back on the desk as though he were dizzy. "Get out," he repeated. "Get out, your father would not be pleased with you."  
  
"That won't work twice," Harry said. "What is wrong with you?"  
  
Snape turned his head and looked Harry up and down. Harry blinked in surprise and realization. "Oh," he managed to say. This was a real stunner. He scratched his head and moved to pick up his stuff, including the parchments on his teacher's desk. After rolling them tighter to fit in his rucksack, Harry paused in thought.  
  
"Sir, how do you know Voldemort was after me?" Harry slowly put the parchments away with the others. "And not you? After all you are the one with no vulnerabilities; I have tons." In fact, at the moment, Harry felt like a giant mass of them.  
  
Snape raised his gaze to the desktop and stared hard past it. "Get out now, Potter or I will beat you silly."  
  
Harry hoisted his rucksack. "All right, sir," he said in a tone that sounded very tired of threats and that he clearly didn't believe that one.  
  
#########  
  
"It must stop here," Snape stated as he stood in Dumbledore's office early the next morning.  
  
The headmaster steepled his fingers. "Harry seemed rather sanguine during his last lesson with me," he observed.  
  
Snape's expression went pained. "He is turning out to be more resilient than I," he said quietly, with careful enunciation. "I am losing control of the situation."  
  
Dumbledore's brow went up. "That is certainly . . . unexpected, Severus."  
  
Snape didn't reply, just avoided Dumbledore's gaze.  
  
"Well, I will put things in motion then by noontime. We will have to salvage what we can after that."


	9. Unleashed

Chapter 9 - Unleashed  
  
Harry sensed something was wrong in his first class of the day: Charms. Flitwick kept giving him sorry little glances, which Harry bluntly ignored. He concentrated on their assignment, which was charming a statue of a ballerina into dancing the ending of swan lake. It took a lot of steps to make it work. Harry's ballerina looked pretty jerky. Hermione had worked out most of the transitions and had a pretty realistic looking dance from her statue. Ron couldn't get the statue to limit its movement to human-possible ones so his statue looked like a rag doll when it moved.  
  
At lunch the teachers were slow at coming in, and after the food arrived, Harry finally snuck a peek at the head table and lunch felt like lead in his stomach all of a sudden. Two chairs were empty: the Headmaster's and the Potions professor's. Harry stopped eating and stared at his plate, his vision was trying to shrink to a little dot as he stared at it.  
  
"Harry?" Ron asked.  
  
"Not feeling so hungry," Harry explained. Ginny looked up at him and Harry very subtly nodded at the head table. She waited a decent pause and then glanced that way casually. When her gaze returned to Harry it was full of sympathy.   
  
In a true moment of deja vu, McGonagall came down their aisle and tapped Harry on the shoulder. "Since you are finished eating, I want a word with you."  
  
Harry scowled at her tone, wondering if he really understood what was happening, and nodded before stepping over the bench. He glanced at his friends as though for the last normal time. "Don't wait for me," he said quietly before following McGonagall out.  
  
He didn't catch up to his long-strided Professor until she waited at her office door, holding it open for him. Harry slipped inside. The door closed with a loud _click_.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me, Potter?" she asked him, her tone hard-edged.  
  
"McGonagall has a hold of the boy, already." Snape rubbed the bridge of his prominent nose as he sat in Dumbledore's office. "He wishes to know what he should tell her."  
  
"He reaches you that easily?" Dumbledore asked in surprise.  
  
"Yes. And in fact I cannot block him out, even if I try," Snape stated tiredly. "Minerva is in need of sensitivity training, I should think," Snape then commented. "She is handling him very poorly."  
  
Dumbledore frowned. "Tell him to give her a sketchy version of events as though they were true."  
  
Snape shook his head. "It does not matter at this point. He has gone on the offensive and most probably won't tell her anything."  
  
"Why didn't I tell you?" Harry asked with a sarcastic tone. "Have you lost count of how many teachers in this school have either tried to injure or kill me? I can take care of myself, thank you." He sat back in the visitor's chair and crossed his arms.  
  
"I am sorry, Harry. I am not handling this properly."  
  
Harry shot her a look that said he'd noticed that. He was deadly curious about what she had been told but with effort he kept his Legilimency to himself.  
  
She started over. "Professor Snape has-"  
  
"It wasn't that big of a deal," Harry interrupted, sensing that things needed to be minimized. His own emotions were a morass, so he was all for minimization.  
  
"What he did was inappropriate."  
  
Harry hedged, "Yeah, well. The Order kind of needs him, right?"  
  
Her gaze darkened. "Not at that cost."  
  
"I can take care of myself," Harry repeated. He sat back with the intent of not saying anything else.  
  
"He is stonewalling now," Snape said, "perhaps you should send for him."  
  
"He can go to class. The Ministry won't be here for a little while."  
  
Snape's gaze came up sharply.  
  
"Because Harry is involved, they are insisting upon investigating," Dumbledore stated. "I view it not as a problem, but as an opportunity to manipulate things appropriately. I am to hold you here until they arrive, so I have assigned Wiggins as a substitute for your afternoon classes."  
  
"I have class, ma'am," Harry pointed out.  
  
McGonagall stared at him over her glasses and crossed arms. "Go on, then," she said flatly.  
  
Harry hurried out. He had to get his books from his dormitory and still try to make it on time. Everyone still in the corridor watched him as he ran past. It seemed terribly important that everything appear normal, so he loathed to be late.  
  
He closed the door to Astronomy just as Sinistra was handing back assignments. As he sat down, he answered Ron and Hermione's questioning gazes with a frown and a shake of his head. A kind of latent panic still gripped him as he took out his parchment and quill, and buried himself in his note taking.  
  
The panic was just loosening its grip when the door clicked open fifteen minutes before the end of class time, just as they were calculating the interacting orbits of Jupiter's moons. Everyone turned to watch the headmaster step in and over to Harry. He bent over and whispered that he had to come with him.  
  
Harry slid out of his desk and said to Ron, "Can you take care of my books?"  
  
"Sure," Ron said and looked very worried.  
  
Dumbledore walked back to the entrance hall with his hand steering Harry by the shoulder. They stopped before the staff meeting room. Dumbledore bent down. "I am going to let you do this alone, Harry. Talk to Percy, that is," he added at Harry's confused expression. "Do the best you can, Harry. I think you understand the situation and I will be upstairs with Professor Snape."  
  
Harry nodded and took a deep breath before he knocked on the meeting room door. As the door opened from the inside, Harry glanced over at Dumbledore's kindly face as he paused at the bottom of the stairs.  
  
"Well, it is about time," Percy said in a snit.   
  
Harry stepped in and sat at the table. The same two assistants were with Percy. They both were taking notes. Percy clenched his hands together which still left them to shake slightly. Harry wondered if it were from rage or something else.  
  
"So, Potter. A few of Professor Snape's students have told the administration that he has been stepping outside the bounds of propriety and that this started . . ." He picked up a parchment and glanced at it with intense eyes. "On the Fifteenth of September. Given your and Professor Snape's histories the Ministry cannot leave this uninvestigated."  
  
Harry still couldn't get a hold of what was up with Percy, so he hesitated responding.  
  
"It is all right, Son," Rankin, the plump, friendly looking assistant said. "We are here to help."  
  
Harry said calmly, "Yes, that is probably the right day. I have remedial potions two evenings a week."  
  
Percy looked at him strangely. "Why are you still in Potions if you require remedial help; it is not a required class. In fact it is an advanced class."  
  
"Hermione wanted someone to take it with her, and I thought I was being nice to Ron since she was strongly insisting he do it." Amazingly, this statement seemed to unsettle Percy more.  
  
Percy's hand still wasn't steady as he set the parchment back in front of Jeeves. "So what happened on the evening of the Fifteenth?"  
  
"He came on to me, I guess you could say." Harry shrugged to buy himself time. He was glad he had already told Ginny, as it made it much easier this time. "One of the Slytherins wears a poison tipped ring and got me with it earlier in the day. It wasn't healing from Pomfrey's salve so I showed it to Snape." No one corrected him. "He had me take my robe and shirt off and he treated the cuts, which was much nicer of him than normal, should have been a tip-off I suppose. Then he knocked me unconscious."  
  
Percy's expression became even more strained. Harry began to suspect that he was recounting one of Percy's worst nightmares.  
  
Harry leaned forward and talked just to him. "Then he must have carried me to his bed, because that is where I woke up." Definitely, Harry thought with cruel amusement. Percy was now breaking out in a sweat and breathing harder.  
  
"Did something happen while you were asleep?" Rankin asked.  
  
Harry turned to the rosy-cheeked man. "I don't think so--he was still spelling the doors locked when I woke up."  
  
Percy made a small squeaking noise of distress. Harry pretended not to have noticed. The other man, Jeeves still stared levelly down at Harry. Percy tried to cover by flipping through the parchments before him again. At that distraction Harry tried to feel his way into Jeeves mind. What he found was just a plain sense of bureaucratic order and a desire to make this abused boy feel that responsible adults were taking charge. Harry backed off.  
  
"And then what?" Rankin asked.  
  
"He basically just stood there and told me what he was planning. That I was too pure and need corrupting or something like that." Harry waved it off.  
  
Rankin appeared to be salivating as he asked, "How far did it get?"  
  
Percy stared at his assistant and said, "I am questioning the boy, if you don't mind."  
  
Rankin bowed his head supplicatingly and waited.  
  
"I'll answer it anyway: Not far. I told him to leave me alone and he did." Harry said this with some conviction.  
  
"How do you know you weren't made to forget later or given something to fog your mind?" Rankin asked.  
  
"I'm pretty sure I wasn't," Harry said, trying to sound like maybe he wasn't so sure, for Rankin's sake.  
  
Percy interrupted in a loud, slightly quavering voice. "And this was repeated how many times?"  
  
Harry pretended to be working that out on his fingers at the same time as he opened his mind to Rankin. The first brief glimpse of the man's utter lapdog-like obedience to Belletrix Lestrange made things clear. "Three times," Harry replied, proud of how smooth it came out.  
  
"And had your fellow students not reported it, what would you have done?" Percy asked, he looked like he regretted eating lunch.  
  
"Nothing," Harry shrugged. "I can take care of myself. I don't trust the teachers in this school," Harry added, thinking of McGonagall's initial reaction as he did so. "He always stopped when I told him to," Harry reinforced this. "He never really did anything other than insinuate stuff with words, but he is always cruel to me in class and out so it's just one more thing, really." He stopped there, worried he had stepped off of the tightrope he was balancing on.  
  
Rankin smiled at him in a twisted friendly way. "You poor boy," the man said.  
  
Harry blinked at him and dropped his eyes to avoid giving anything away.  
  
"All right then, Mr. Potter. You may go," Percy said. "Can you tell your Headmaster that we are ready for your Professor?"  
  
Harry would have retorted that Percy didn't sound ready at all, but he nodded obediently and went out.   
  
Harry stepped into Dumbledore's office and took the open visitor's seat. "Percy _said_ he wants to see Professor Snape now, sir."  
  
"How did it go, Harry?"  
  
"Like tightrope walking."  
  
Dumbledore gave him a small smile at that as Snape stood up and went to the door.  
  
"Oh, and Professor?" Harry said and turned around to look up at Snape. "Percy is halfway to disbelief based on his own sheer horror of the very notion of what he is asking about, so he could be pushed the rest of the way. And Rankin is Belletrix's lapdog." Harry shuddered at that now that he was free to do so.  
  
Snape stared down at him with a raised brow.  
  
"I didn't tell you to do that, Harry," Dumbledore chided him.  
  
Harry turned to him. "You told me to do the best I could," he pointed out.  
  
"Yes. Yes, I did, Dumbledore admitted. He clasped his hands and unclasped them in thought. So, given that, what about Jeeves?"  
  
"A career bureaucrat moving into a power vacuum," Harry stated. "Seemed like a nice enough man."  
  
Dumbledore's eyes flicked up to Snape's. "You didn't tell me he was this good."  
  
"You didn't ask," Snape commented dryly.  
  
Harry looked up at Snape again. "You were right, Professor--eye-to-eye is much easier."  
  
"I have not trained him in that," Snape pointed out as though Harry wasn't there. With a last glance at his student, Snape departed.  
  
Dumbledore sat back. "While we are waiting for Professor Snape, I want to try some things with you."  
  
Harry shrugged.  
  
"And I also want to warn you that you can be very badly injured doing Legilimency. So you must be careful."  
  
Harry nodded, though he didn't understand.  
  
"Perhaps it is something you will have to learn for yourself," Dumbledore commented. "Well, let us try something then, see what you've got."  
  
Harry sat up, eager to show off.  
  
"When I say, 'go' I want you to try to get into my mind," the old wizard said. He closed his eyes a moment and opened them again as he said, "Go."  
  
For a moment, Harry couldn't decide which version of Legilimency to try. He fell back on his more practiced one and closed his eyes. It took nearly a minute before he could feel Dumbledore in front of him but he couldn't grab a hold of any thoughts.  
  
"Try it with your eyes open, Harry," Dumbledore suggested.  
  
Harry did so. "That is harder, sir. I lose what little sense I have of you." He hesitated but then said, "You don't seem to really be there."  
  
"That is the point I have gotten you to as well, Harry."  
  
"I'm glad, sir. I didn't realize I was doing that well."  
  
Dumbledore stood up and came around the desk. He put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, do not use this Legilimency skill unless it is essential to your survival, all right? I do not want anyone to find out about it, and I don't want you hurt."  
  
Harry nodded. "I have been resisting the temptation, sir."  
  
"Good. I am glad to hear that, my boy."  
  
"I'm not really a boy anymore, sir," Harry pointed out.  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "To me, young man, Professor Snape seems like a boy." The headmaster chuckled and patted Harry's shoulder before he stepped back around the desk.


	10. Reprimands and Mending

  
  
Chapter 10 - Reprimands and Mending  
  
Snape didn't allow his gaze to rest on Rankin longer than any other spot in the room as he took the closest chair to the door. He did let his hard and vaguely disinterested gaze dwell on Percy, however. The most annoying of the Weasley children had tiny droplets of sweat on his upper lip.  
  
Mr. Potter has given us his, uh, side of the story, Percy said, glancing at the parchments in front of his assistant on the left.  
  
Shall we review it? Snape asked in a borderline helpful tone.  
  
I, uh, don't think that is necessary, Percy stated quickly, garnering a furrowed brow from Jeeves. What do you . . . have to say for yourself?  
  
Snape crossed his arms. With regard to?  
  
Percy blanched and his face fell into dismay. Finally showing some anger, he said, With regard to Mr. Potter's allegations. Are they true?  
  
Undoubtedly in his own mind, Snape stated dryly, dismissively.  
  
So you are denying --  
  
Snape cut him off. I am simply pointing that Potter is the headmaster's most favorite student. WHY, I have no idea. Nothing but a troublemaker who enjoys being at odds with as many teachers as possible. He gestured at the file sitting in the center of the table. You have his records there, have you not?   
  
Jeeves took notes through this diatribe. Percy picked up the file and leafed through it. I do recall that in my days as Head Boy. He appeared to strain for the next question.   
  
Snape bailed him out by saying with a sigh. I admit I may have tormented Mr. Potter, our resident hero, a bit too far this time. But his arrogance tends to push me just a bit beyond the edge. He said the last slowly and a little malevolently, making Percy fumble with the file, nearly dropping it. More dismissively, Snape said, I intended no permanent harm and none has befallen him, even the headmaster agrees on that point.  
  
So you are saying . . . Percy began.  
  
I am saying that will not bother him again, he finished in a bored voice.  
  
Uh . .   
  
Glancing now at Rankin just a little longer than Jeeves, Snape said, I expect you understand the position the school is in at this time. And that removing me is hardly in anyone's best interest? He managed to raise a non-glaring eyebrow at his former student and wait patiently.  
  
Rankin nodded obediently. Percy shuffled his papers. You swear to leave him, uh, alone in the future?  
  
With another bored sigh and frown, Snape replied as though the alternative were distasteful, Most certainly.  
  
Does simplify the paperwork, Rankin put in chummily.  
  
Percy nodded distractedly at that as he resettled the parchment folder and laid it out on the table. The top sheet in Potter's file was a list of every last detention he'd served and for what reason. The infractions were true, if not dolled up slightly, making for a daunting list. Out of context it would imply the boy was nearly self-destructive. Snape felt an odd sort of revenge at having the three of them look it over.  
  
Finally Percy stashed it away. I think we can trust Headmaster Dumbledore to handle your censure in this case. We'll just file our recommendations with him.  
  
Snape shrugged as though it were all in the course of the day and stood up with them to depart.  
  
#########  
  
The fallout wasn't as bad as Harry had been fearing; the whispering in the halls not as prevalent; the other teachers retained or returned to their normal behavior. Harry wasn't allowed to be alone with Professor Snape anymore and the teachers and staff were well aware of it.   
  
Ron and Hermione kept insisting he tell them what happened; he kept insisting he didn't feel like recounting it again. Hermione also tried to give him trouble for not telling anyone about whatever it was, but Harry's very angry response put an immediate stop to her chiding.  
  
Harry was determined to put a lot of suspicious minds to rest during his next Potions class. Malfoy's utter glee as they filed into the room didn't help much.  
  
"Mr. Potter, what would adding tar black do to this potion?" Snape asked, finally getting around to aiming a question at him.  
  
_Get you one step into Dryiun Serum_, Harry projected at him as he answered aloud, "I don't know, sir." He didn't think this was the best time to suddenly know the answer.  
  
Snape crossed his arms and said. "Potter, do you _ever_ study for this class?"  
  
"I try to, sir," Harry said with a frown and dropped his gaze.  
  
"Try harder."  
  
###########  
  
Harry woke up in the middle of the next night with a start. His own breathing was the only sound he could hear. Cold fear pumped through him as the vision that had invaded his sleep flashed into his mind again. Harry immediately cleared his mind and lay still and tried to calm down. The flash of imagery included Belletrix with a whip and Snape naked down to the remains of his torn robe, bent over his bound hands. Harry's view and emotions had clearly been Voldemort's.  
  
Harry rolled onto his back and cleared and partitioned his mind. His heart started racing each time he prepared to open a pathway to Voldemort. Each time he aborted the Legilimency until he could approach it with a regular heart rate and relaxed body.   
  
Finally he managed, and the vision returned. Snape gasped as the whip cracked over him. Lestrange was wearing a cloak with a shiny leather laced bodice underneath. The ties were undone at the top, leaving her rather revealed. She was enjoying herself way too much. As the punishment continued, Harry held himself completely calm despite the horror of the scene. At one point he felt Voldemort seeking him briefly but the Dark Lord actually gave up. Harry could feel his disappointment and he used it to quell his own sense of victory.  
  
Belletrix stood straight and came toward him. She was breathing very heavily and breathily, and her moist lips glistened in the firelight. Blood spattered her breasts like freckles, Harry noticed when she was close enough. She appeared wired on something, her eyes wild and searching. When she reached up and pulled her bodice open Harry backed off, though he did it as slowly as he could stand to. He just got out as Voldemort's hand was reaching up . . .  
  
Clear of the vision, Harry rolled over and groaned in horrific dismay. He was glad dinner had been much earlier in the day.   
  
Harry lay awake for a very long time. He checked his clock and at an hour from the vision he very carefully peeked at Snape. The Potion Master lay in his own bed, making Harry relax a little, but his back was torturously on fire. Why doesn't he go to Pomfrey or someone, Harry wondered. Can't he trust anyone? Dumbledore? Or was he too proud to ask the headmaster for help?  
  
Harry lay fitfully now, trying to decide what to do. When he couldn't stand it any longer he carefully got up and dug his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map out of his trunk. He hadn't used them yet this year but he fell into the routine with ease. The corridors were clear as he headed out and down to the dungeons. Snape's office door presented a little problem. It took Harry eight tries to open the lock charm on it; he was glad they had covered those for two full sessions in the DA. He respelled the door after closing it silently.  
  
He left his cloak and Map on the visitor's chair and crept past the desk. The door to the suite was ajar. The heat from the fire in the hearth had transformed the dank atmosphere into sultry. Beside the bed, Harry whispered, "Professor?"  
  
Snape snapped around and apparently immediately regretted it. A few heavily gasping moments past before he said, "Potter, what the devil are you doing here?"  
  
"You woke me up," Harry explained. "Why don't you get help?"  
  
Snape just shook his head.  
  
"This rule is seeming really dumb. Last time I saw McGonagall she looked about like Belletrix did. Except minus that leather thing."  
  
"Potter! Didn't the headmaster tell you-"  
  
"I woke up with it!" Harry interrupted him. "I blocked it out as quickly as I could." Which was true up to a point. "Don't you have anything: a potion or something?" Harry asked.  
  
Snape rested, hunched over, with his forehead on the bed for a long time before he said. "There is a salve in the cabinet to the right behind the desk." Harry was already up and across the room by the time Snape finished with, ". . . a dark blue jar."  
  
Harry found it easily. He returned to find Snape prone on the bed, looking half-conscious. Harry, with only a moment's hesitation, sat on the edge of the bed and opened the jar. Snape's pain was battering at him like a headache that is thinking of coming on really strong any moment.  
  
He dipped his finger into the salve and started at the top bloody streak, re-dipping frequently to avoid rubbing too hard. By the time he reached Snape's shoulder blades, the figure before him was relaxing into the relief and the battering of pain was receding. Harry took his time finishing, making sure to completely cover each of what seemed like countless ragged streaks. Harry did a few spots of touch up, leaning over and using the firelight to find the spots of thin salve.  
  
He closed the jar and set it aside. Snape lay unmoving except for the rise and fall of his back as he breathed. Harry took the hint and left. Covered in his cloak he waited by the door to the hallway for the coast to clear.   
  
"You are still here," Snape's voice said from the other doorway minutes later. He was in a robe now and looking almost normal from what Harry could see by the firelight leaking in from the next room.  
  
Harry adjusted the invisibility cloak on his shoulders. "Malfoy and Parkinson are in the corridor."  
  
Snape's head came up sharply. "You can tell that now?"  
  
Harry sighed. "As much as I'd like to take credit for _seeing_ into the corridor. I used this." He held up the Map.  
  
Snape waved the lamps up, making Harry blink at the light. "I will make some tea while you wait, then. You absolutely cannot be caught down here; it would force the headmaster's hand."  
  
Harry slipped his cloak off and draped it back over the chair and sat down in his pyjamas. He watched with fatigued eyes as his Professor spelled tea and hot water and set it aside to steep. Snape turned to face him and leaned on the back of his desk chair. "Satisfy my curiosity, Potter. Did you use any magic when you applied the salve just now?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "Why do you ask, sir?"   
  
Snape shook his head and took two cups out of a cabinet. He waited two minutes and then poured out the tea. "It should not have worked so well. Belletrix's whip is far from ordinary but that salve is." He looked at Harry closely as though to see if he had been lying.  
  
Harry shrugged and sipped his tea. It was black tea which probably wasn't the best if he planned to try to sleep again. He took another sip anyway.  
  
Snape sat down but didn't lean back in his chair. He studied Harry over his tea cup. "Dumbledore puts a great deal of faith in that particular kind of magic of yours, Potter." Harry just looked confused. "What were you thinking about in there?"  
  
"Not much. Your pain was hammering at me," Harry said. Snape's chin went up. Harry continued, "I just wanted your pain to go away." He felt a little embarrassed having to explain. He laid the Map out in front of himself and bit his lip. "Want to see how it works?" he asked. He needed to use it anyway.  
  
At Snape's elevated brow, Harry stood up and brought the Map over. This was a concession, Harry knew. A trade. He tapped the Map. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."  
  
Snape just shook his head and then froze as the map drew itself in. Dots for Malfoy and Parkinson hovered in the dungeon corridor around the corner between here and the stairs. "From whom did you get this, Potter? Not that I don't recognize the authors."  
  
"I can't tell you that, sir. I promised not to."  
  
"I can guess though based on knowing who the most troublesome students before you were."  
  
"You might be able to guess, Professor. But I didn't say."  
  
Snape leaned closer. "A disgustingly sophisticated piece of magic. Mrs. Norris is even on here."  
  
"Oh, she is the worst, sir," Harry insisted. "She can see through the cloak."  
  
"Indeed? I would not have known that. And how do you suppress the imagery?"  
  
Harry reached over and tapped it. "Mischief managed," Harry said with a little chagrin. Snape rolled his eyes. Harry returned to the visitor's chair.  
  
"Do you think you can get rid of them?" Snape asked.  
  
"The headmaster said not to use it unless my survival was at stake."  
  
"Probably wise. I will get rid of them in that case." Snape gulped his tea. "I just have to think of a suitable errand."  
  
Harry leaned his head back onto the hard wood of the chair back. Despite the tea he was still incredibly sleepy.  
  
"I must say, Potter. I cannot believe I have not lost your trust," Snape observed.  
  
Harry raised his head and looked at him. "We all have to survive this, sir," he said. "Last week the Prophet put mysterious deaths at thirty-three."  
  
"It is higher than that," Snape commented darkly.  
  
"I don't have any choice but to trust you, sir," Harry said tiredly and leaned his head back again.  
  
_I know you think he is identical to his father, but he isn't: he has a much kinder soul which he gets from his mother. DO NOT damage it, whatever you do._ Dumbledore's voice replayed itself to Snape as he watched Harry Potter fight exhaustion in his visitor's chair.  
  
Snape stood up and picked up a random flask from the nearby shelf. At the door he paused to unspell it and said, "Count of sixty, Potter, and the hallway will be clear." He reached for the door handle and paused again. "Better yet, check your Map--I may decide to punish them on the spot."  
  
Harry stood up and put the cloak over his head in preparation.  
  
Snape stepped into the corridor, pretending to be intent on some destination. He stopped as he passed the side alcove and spun suddenly. As expected, Malfoy and Parkinson crouched there. He let the flask swing loosely at his side as though to say that his other errand had lost importance.  
  
"Sir, we were just . . ." Malfoy started.  
  
"Just what, Mr. Malfoy? Reporting to the headmaster again?" Snape asked with clearly artificial calm.  
  
"You deserved that," Malfoy sneered, "for consorting with a Gryffindor. That is disgusting and disloyal."  
  
"Strong words, Mr. Malfoy. Especially for someone facing a months detention for being where you are at this moment."  
  
"I'll take detention if I can serve it the way Potter does," Malfoy said sweetly.  
  
Parkinson gaped at him. "You are gross, Malfoy. I didn't realize you were just jealous."  
  
"You'll both serve it with Filch," Snape snapped at them. "Now get back to your rooms or you'll end up crawling your way there and it will take several days by the time I am through with you."  
  
They jumped and ran back down the corridor.  
  
Snape strode up the stairs and stood in the corridor that led to the entrance hall. A quiet swish went past him. "Good night, Professor."   
  
"Good night, Potter."  
  
#############  
  
The next morning, Harry woke with a headache. Ron pulled the drapes of his bed aside, letting in the yellow morning sunlight, presumably to help him wake up.  
  
"Hey, what happened to you?" Ron asked.  
  
Harry looked at himself, at the blood on the ends of his sleeves. "I had a nosebleed last night," Harry lied quickly. Ron wasn't that interested, since breakfast was on the short horizon, so his friend left it with that explanation.  
  
Harry got up slowly as the other boys were leaving. Dean Thomas hung back until they were alone.  
  
"Where did you go last night?" Dean asked him.  
  
"What's it to you?" Harry asked, though not unkindly.  
  
"Hey, you are the one that told us in DA to make a stink if we saw anything we didn't like," Dean pointed out angrily.  
  
Harry had pulled off his pyjama top and he now stared at it. "Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry. You're right. How did I miss that much blood?" He pulled out his wand.  
  
"It won't come out if it has been there overnight," Dean pointed out. "So where were you?"  
  
Harry took a deep breath. "You know some of the teachers here are pretty deeply involved in the Order?" At Dean's nod, Harry went on. "Well, one of the Death Eaters took a whip to one of the teachers and since only I have the misfortune of tuning into the Voldemort channel. Only I knew it. And the teacher had to hide it, so they couldn't go to Pomfrey for help."  
  
"You are talking about Snape?"  
  
"I didn't say that," Harry said too quickly.  
  
"You didn't have to," Dean said. "After what he did to you? You still went down there?" Dean asked, disgusted.  
  
Harry pulled on a clean shirt. "We all have our duties and our roles to play in this if we are to win. Personal feelings mean nothing. Wizards and Muggles are being exploited and killed. Right now. Personal feelings mean nothing," Harry repeated.  
  
"I don't get you, Harry," Dean said, sounding like he were glad for that.  
  
"This battle is all I have. There isn't anything else."  
  
Dean hesitated as Harry slipped off his pyjama bottoms and put on slacks. "Funny, that is what Longbottom said the other day," he commented.  
  
Harry shook out his robe prior to putting it on. "Yeah, well, Neville and I have more in common than you might imagine," Harry said.

* * *

I was trying to avoid sullying the ends of the chapters, but it seems worth chiming in here since the feedback has been so good.  
To Annaleese192 and others: Yes. Snape has too strong of an, uh, attraction for Harry. Which Harry cottons on to when Snape looks him over. Sorry to be so vague, I like trying to get people to cotton on themselves rather than spell it out but sometimes I'm not clear enough.  
To Xikum: well you do get around ffnet. Just to warn you, this story isn't going to stand up to that level of analysis. 


	11. Lessons Learned

Chapter 11 - Lessons Learned  
  
Double Potions today, Harry thought to himself as he followed Hermione into the classroom. He felt lightheaded. He realized as he stepped in and glanced at Snape getting supplies out of the cabinet behind the desk, that he couldn't really know Snape more than he did and that was an alarming thought.   
  
He took a seat at the table beside Hermione. She leaned over and whispered. "You could probably drop out of this class, Harry. I'm sure Dumbledore would let you." She looked as though she thought she knew what was going on.  
  
"I'll stick with it," Harry whispered back.  
  
"Harry, I've been hearing what happened."  
  
He brought his gaze up to her. "The rumors couldn't be more wrong," Harry said stiffly. "Don't assume, Hermione."  
  
She stared at him and then quickly pretended to take notes. The lecture was long today and Harry had a hard time focusing on it. He mostly copied Hermione's parchment. Until he heard his name.  
  
"Potter?" Snape said, sounding like he was repeating himself.  
  
"Professor?" Harry asked, looking uncertain.  
  
"You didn't hear the question, did you?" Snape sneered at him.  
  
"No, sir."  
  
Snape crossed his arms. "You are a sorry excuse for a Hogwarts student, Potter."  
  
Harry dropped his gaze and frowned at his notes. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Malfoy and company jeering at him.   
  
As they left the classroom and made it to an empty stretch of corridor, Hermione commented, "Boy, Professor Snape sure seems to hate you."  
  
Harry hesitated before answering. "I want to believe that's true."  
  
His friend gave him an odd expression in return. "One of these days you are going to explain yourself, Harry," she said.  
  
"And you will wish I hadn't," Harry retorted.  
  
#########  
  
Two weeks later, Harry felt like things were getting back to normal. Well, except for McGonagall who was much feistier than she had been. She had even started deducting points from Gryffindors when they deserved it, leading to much grumbling.  
  
During the break between afternoon classes, Harry found himself pushing his way through students congregating in the corridor connecting the biggest classrooms. The sound of happy chatter almost hurt his ears as it echoed from the close stone walls.   
  
Harry stopped and turned as he caught sight of the back of Ginny's head and heard her voice saying, "No, I don't think so." It was a voice that, disturbingly, reminded Harry of Hermione and Crabbe. Harry made his way over to his girlfriend. She was talking to a seventh year named Aiken Lamont. She seemed to be trying to politely extricate herself from the conversation.   
  
Harry stepped up to them. "Ginny," Harry said in greeting.  
  
"Hey, Harry," she said in return. "Gotta run, Aiken."  
  
Harry turned to lead Ginny away but Aiken grabbed her arm. Harry turned back to him and stared at the look on the other boy's face. His lips were oddly wet. Harry pried open his mind and froze there for several awful breaths before he clenched his teeth and closed it down. He violently dragged Ginny away.   
  
"I don't want you ever talking to him again," Harry breathed harshly.  
  
"Harry!" she said. "He was just talking."  
  
Harry stopped halfway down the corridor and grabbed her by both shoulders. "Promise me!" he snapped at her.  
  
"All right," she said, sounding disappointed.  
  
Harry looked around him in distress. His face had gone very pale, edging to green. "I have to be sick," he said and dashed toward the Prefect's toilet which let him in, surprisingly.  
  
Ginny stood in the hallway and stared at the closed door. The rest of the students gradually moved on to get to their next class, and eventually, Ginny stood alone.  
  
"Ms. Weasley?" Snape's voice interrupted her worried vigil. "Do you not have class right now?"  
  
"I'm waiting for Harry," she explained as she pointed at the Prefect's toilet. "He said he was sick."   
  
Footsteps from the other direction brought both of their gazes over. McGonagall bore down with a purpose. "Ms. Weasley?" she asked and as she came abreast, actually pulled Ginny toward her away from Snape.  
  
"I'm waiting for Harry," she repeated and indicated the toilet once again.  
  
"What is he doing in there?"  
  
"He said he was sick. It was really strange I was talking to Aiken and he got really angry. . ." she tried to explain, then realized that neither teacher was listening. She glanced up at each of them and the face-off that was forming, and headed immediately for the door to the toilet. It was locked.   
  
"_Alohomora!, Decentras!, Cypheractum!_," She said pointing with her wand. She took two steps back and ignored McGonagall's comment about it not letting her in. Hell if she was staying in this corridor with two angry professors, especially these two. "_Pyrolatchmatum!_" she shouted. A bang sounded and smoke poured from the door frame as the door swung open slightly. "Harry?" she said as she pushed it open farther.   
  
Harry sat on a small stool beside the sinks, still very pale. Ginny went over to him. "Are you all right?" she asked. The teachers followed her in, each taking a position on either side of her as though using her as a barricade. "Harry, what happened?" Ginny asked.  
  
Harry ignored her question beyond giving her a pained look. He turned his gaze to McGonagall. "Why did you let him stay here?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowed.  
  
"Potter, we should take you to Pomfrey," McGonagall said, putting the back of her hand against his forehead. "You are covered in cold sweat."  
  
"There is nothing wrong with me!" Harry snapped at her.  
  
"Is he talking about Aiken Lamont?" Snape asked Ginny. At her nod, Snape crouched down. "Potter did you Legilimens Mr. Lamont?"  
  
Harry cringed and nodded reluctantly. "Only because he had grabbed Ginny and he looked so odd," Harry tried to explain. He still felt shaky as though someone had pulled his broom out from under him in midair and he needed to learn how to fly on his own or face hitting the ground.  
  
Snape took Harry's wrist and tried to count his pulse but McGonagall flaked. "Let go of him!" she said and grabbed the back of Snape's robe. Ginny ducked beneath them both and grabbed Harry's arms.  
  
"Harry, why doesn't anyone know what is going on?" she asked.  
  
Snape didn't defend himself, just backed off. McGonagall turned at Ginny's words and stared at the two of them.  
  
Ginny went on, "This is stupid. Why doesn't Dumbledore trust Professor Mc-" she stopped at the warning look on Harry's face.  
  
"Ginny, you have a complaint about Order policy, take it up with the headmaster," Harry stated. He was shaking more now. His heart refused to slow down and it was making him startlingly dizzy. "Professor McGonagall, I need someone to help me and Professor Snape knows how. Please don't interfere with him."  
  
Snape shot a look at his colleague and crouched back down and took up Harry's wrist. He shook his head at his pulse. "Close your eyes, Potter. What has happened, is that in your horror, you left part of yourself behind."  
  
Harry leaned his head back against the sink and clenched his eyes shut. That didn't sound so good.  
  
"You need to reach back out and find it."  
  
"I don't want to go back into his mind," Harry complained.  
  
"You have no choice," Snape stated stridently.  
  
Harry tossed his head from side to side a moment, fighting the notion of reliving the dark, sexual hunger of Aiken's mind. He finally gave in and tried to locate the boy. As he did so, he found, mercifully, just bored note taking in History class. "Now what?" Harry asked.  
  
"Withdraw in a controlled manner by emptying your mind," Snape said gently. "Normally now, forget for the moment what you saw."  
  
Harry's shoulders relaxed and he breathed out. Snape dropped his wrist after a few more moments.   
  
"Better?" Snape asked.  
  
"Yes," Harry admitted. He looked at them. "Why is Lamont still here?" he asked them earnestly.  
  
"If no one will give witness, Harry, it is difficult to prove anything," McGonagall said. "So we keep a very close eye on him."  
  
"Why didn't Rebecca Marx say anything?" The horror and the images hadn't let go of him.  
  
"Why didn't you, Harry?" McGonagall shot back at him.  
  
"I take your point, Professor," Harry said quietly.   
  
McGonagall went on, "It is also difficult if your parents take you for rather extensive, professional memory charms and you transfer to Durmstrang. If we stoop to that level," she said, staring at Snape, "I don't know how we are different."  
  
Harry stared at the ceiling to control himself. A moment later as he moved to stand up, Ginny shifted to help him. He shook out his sweat-soaked robe and looked at his teachers. Snape looked relaxed and McGonagall looked uncertain although this hadn't banked her anger at all. Harry desperately wanted to explain somethings to her, but it wasn't his place.  
  
"Ginny, you are late for class," Harry pointed out at the doorway.  
  
"I will take her to class, Potter," McGonagall said and swooped out passed him, put her hand on Ginny's shoulder and marched her down the hall, leaving Snape and himself alone.  
  
Harry rubbed his eyes. "I can't figure her out," he commented.  
  
"Knowing McGonagall, I expect she believes, in this case, you deserve what you get," Snape commented. "Are you feeling better, Potter?"  
  
Harry rubbed his stiff neck. "As well as I am going to at this point."  
  
"And you have learned-"  
  
". . . my lesson," Harry interrupted. "Yes, Professor."  
  
Snape's gaze went over him a long moment and then he too departed, then stopped and turned back with almost kind expression. "You will have to make your own excuses. I don't think I should walk you to class."  
  
Harry laughed a little. "No, sir."  
  
###########  
  
Harry pulled Ginny along between the Astronomy Tower and the owlery. There was a covered decorative railing on the roof where Fred and George insisted people went for necking when Harry asked them in his last letter. He didn't, of course, tell them who he had in mind.  
  
Because the owls kept the pigeons away it was clean on the stone surface. They ducked under the eve and sat back, giggling a bit at their daring. Harry immediately put his arms around Ginny and pulled her close. She laid her head on his chest and sighed as Harry put his fingers through her bright hair. They sat that way for quite a while, until Ginny raised her head and parted her lips with a hopeful expression. Harry smiled and leaned down and kissed her, drawing her lips between his softly and devouring her gently.  
  
When he stopped, she sat with her eyes closed for a moment and then blinked at him. "Harry, that was really nice. How in the world did you mess up with Cho? If you don't mind my asking."  
  
Harry froze and sat back. "I didn't know what seduction was," Harry commented. "And, rather alarmingly, I do now."  
  
"Oh," she groaned into his robe. "I had to ask."  
  
Harry laughed. "You think that is scary," he commented. "Try this." He put his hand behind her head and pulled her into a seriously all-consuming kiss.   
  
As she caught her breath after, he stroked her cheek and ear.   
  
Ginny said, "I am trying very hard not to care where you learned that. You didn't say before. . ."  
  
"Because I hadn't. If I tell you one last secret, do you still promise to never repeat it?"  
  
"Harry!" She punched him lightly in the stomach. "Of course I won't tell. Trust me, please!"  
  
"Well it isn't about me, that is the problem. If it were my secret I wouldn't have a problem telling you. But I have to tell someone, it is killing me having to carry this around."  
  
"Harry," she said sympathetically and hugged him a bit.  
  
Harry actually glanced around them a little, just to be certain. "If I told you the Potions Master fell for me, what would you say?"  
  
"That you are out of your fucking gourd," Ginny said in disbelief.  
  
"Language, Ms. Weasley. Language," Harry said, mimicking McGonagall, which made Ginny laugh. Harry went on, "That kiss was the last thing he did and then he told Dumbledore it had to stop. You can draw your own conclusions."  
  
"He really kissed you like that?" she asked, fascinated. "I think I would die."  
  
"He almost did. Stopping the ruse was a really bad since Voldemort had to punish him for failing or disobeying, whichever. He ended up beaten bloody with a whip by Belletrix. I even think he knew that was going to happen." Harry looked down at their robes overlapping. Hers was a little washed out and he wondered for a moment if she would let him buy her a new set for her birthday.  
  
"How do you know that?" she asked.  
  
"Because it woke me up and I had to watch it until I could safely block it out."  
  
"Merlin, Harry. You say things to me and I really want to believe you are lying, but you never are." She thought a moment. "He looked fine in class all week," she pointed out.  
  
"I snuck down and took care of him," Harry said and felt much better for the unloading of it. She couldn't seem to find words to respond to that. "I discovered something important though. Two things, really. I have this power Voldemort doesn't have, this older magic, and I think I have a handle on it now. That and hating Snape was a vulnerability I had to get rid of. I have to get rid of all of them. Any weakness is going to make me fail in the end."  
  
Ginny sat up and looked at him from arm's length. "Am I a weakness for you, Harry?" she asked in concern.  
  
"No, Ginny. Not at all," he insisted and pulled her against him more fully this time. He rubbed her back in long strokes and she found his lips this time. Harry felt that clay-like feeling flowing through him again. He slipped his hand inside her robe and stroked her through just her shirt, his hand catching on her bra strap. He slipped both arms around her under her robe and adjusted his legs so she lay between them, across him.  
  
"You can do more if you want," Ginny said quietly.  
  
"I look forward to it, but we should get back soon. That and I don't know if I can stop if we get too far."  
  
"You are a tease, Harry Potter," she said, looking up at him.  
  
"Better than the opposite," Harry said.  
  
"Oh," she said. "That thing with Aiken is still bothering you."  
  
"It is going to be for a long time." He sat up. "We should get back. I don't want to have to duel Ron to the death if he figures out where we have been."  
  
"If it comes to that," she said as they climbed back out onto the roof, "I'll duel him and you can be my second."  
  
The Astronomy Tower was empty when they climbed back into it. Harry hugged her one more time, lifting her off her feet. "Too bad I don't have my broom; we could just fly out," he said, indicating the view with a sweep of his arm.  
  
"Oh, and that wouldn't tell everyone what we were up to."  
  
He looked at her closely. She had a few freckles, but just enough to be cute. "I really like you, Ginny. If it starts to feel like love, I'll let you know right away."  
  
"Oh, Harry," she exclaimed in surprise. "You are far too sweet." Her eyes looked brighter as she said, "I'll let you know too."  
  
"Don't be afraid of it, Ginny," he said, his gaze drawn again to the vista outside the tower. "It is all there is. That and this stupid battle." He turned again to her and ran his thumb over her lips. "You don't make me weak, Ginny," Harry said in wonderment.  
  
"Feeling this is power."

* * *

The End

* * *

**Notes** To juxtaposed, no risk of offending, believe me. I was trying for humor in the fact that Harry just up and stuck his head out of the sand and for the first time thought about who he might want to spend time with. Maybe needed to accentuate that more that the suddenness was intentional. I think of Ginny as waiting for Harry in canon, so I didn't think I needed to cover that side.   
  
To Doneril, Percy is freaking at the thought of sex with Snape. Stuff of dark nightmares for him, apparently. Gosh I think that'd be fun to write. What is it with my mood today???   
  
To redredredred, I'll be posting the pure hpss next. Someone explained how to handle the rating conflict (write two versions).   
  
To Masterdeeds, oh, that does make me smile. They are an interesting pairing, or ship I guess I should call it in this fandom.   
  
To Anne Phoenix, hopefully I don't make that mistake of making Harry into Whiteknightprotector. I think I managed okay, but only you all can judge.   
  



End file.
